Daylight Moon
by Kristin Todd
Summary: From Jasper's perspective, this story takes place almost six years after "Breaking Dawn." Renesmee is now almost an adult and life is changing for the Cullens. Jasper and Alice face their own trials abroad as the Cullens analyze a message from the Volturi
1. Table of Contents and Ch 1

1. TROUBLE

2. CELEBRATION

3. ANNOUNCEMENT

4. SURRENDER

5. PLANS

6. REUNION

7. EVENT

8. ACCEPTED

9. DOWN THE AISLE

10. CHANGE OF PLANS

11. FAMILY

12. FATE

13. UNEXPLAINED

14. HUNT

15. ALONE

16. GONE

17. WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING

18. SLEEP

19. PEACE

20. HOME

jasper

1. TROUBLE

I SUPPOSED I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT EDWARD WOULD BE ANGRY. JACOB certainly should have known. As much as I admired -- often even coveted -- my brother's self-control, he was not without his shortcomings. My mind flashed briefly to the weekend seven years ago when he had whisked the then-human Bella away to Jacksonville to see her mother -- taken her practically against her will to one of the sunniest places in the country -- simply to keep her out of Victoria's way when Alice had seen that the vengeful vampire _might_ _try_ to attack. I snorted at the thought of Victoria, skillful at evasion as she may have been, slipping through our grasp. Through _my_ grasp. I was nothing if not strategic. I sighed. Over-protective Edward. The best of intentions, but Bella, and now Renesmee, had to get exasperated at his almost ridiculous ultimatums at times.

I caught Edward's glare out of the corner of my eye. He read my thoughts with annoyance before turning back to glower, stone-faced, at the hapless Jacob. I turned and headed up the stairs to mine and Alice's room. I hoped I was out of Edward's distracted "hearing."

"Hi," Alice smiled as she looked up at me from the floor. She had spread a half dozen magazines out on the carpet in front of her and was making mental alterations to a number of designer gowns.

"Who are those ones for?" I asked warily, "If you give Bella another ball gown we may have to move in with Tanya -- I don't know that even I will be able to keep her calm."

"Oh, she'll be fine," Alice waved me off nonchalantly, "Carlisle and Esme's anniversary is coming up, and I'm sure _Bella_ isn't going to buy something suitable for herself." She snorted at the idea. Even this noise, even for our kind, was the most melodic and musical sound -- like the tinkling of silver wind chimes.

I chuckled and folded myself down on the floor next to her in resignation.

"How is it going downstairs? Is Jacob still alive? I can't tell, you know, but as I haven't heard any howls of agony, I assume he's still breathing." Her perfect brow furrowed in irritation for the briefest moment. I knew she was still annoyed that she couldn't see the werewolves with her gifted vision. Such an amazing gift, it seemed silly to get irritated at this small imperfection. But for Alice, I knew, it truly was a second sight. She counted on her vision almost as much as her eye-sight. It was one of her senses, like smelling or hearing. Believing that it was flawed, more flawed than she had once supposed, left her feeling slightly impaired. As though she were near-sighted. I suppressed a smile. Alice didn't like it when I tried to make her feel better about her "limitations." Quickly her porcelain face relaxed again and she looked back at me, flashing the brilliant smile I loved. Even after all this time, she still took my breath away. Good thing I didn't need breath...

"Oh, Jacob's still trying to explain, but Edward's not having it. It's too bad Bella's hunting with Esme right now -- you know she's the only one who can reason with him when he gets like this. Honestly, like a _motorcycle_ could hurt Renesmee..." I trailed off, trying to imagine how Edward felt. Well, I knew how he _felt._ My own "gift" allowed me to feel the tenor and emotions of individuals, of situations. I knew he was worried, furious, incredulous... I tried to reason _why_ he felt this way. Though Renesmee was his only daughter -- and chronologically only six years old -- biologically she was almost an adult. She now looked to be around twenty, or late teens at the youngest. And when you factored in the impenetrable skin and super-human reflexes she had inherited from her father, I really didn't see how Edward could fear for her safety from something as trifling as a _motorcycle_.

"Well, he won't listen to me," I said, shrugging, "I tried to intercede on Jacob's behalf, but Edward wouldn't hear it. 'This is my only daughter, we're talking about, Jasper!'" I mimicked his steely voice, glowering down at the giggling Alice, "'My _child_...' " I rolled my eyes.

"--As if it wasn't bad enough that you _imprinted_ on my daughter while she was practically still in the _womb_! Now you want to go gallivanting off _across the treaty line_ to teach her to ride a - a - " Edward's shouts drifted up to us, even through the closed bedroom door. Not that it would have made a difference if he hadn't been bellowing in fury. As a vampire I probably could have heard him whispering. I sighed; as usual Edward's generally fraternal regards for Jacob were inexplicably absent when he was in a temper.

"You know the treaty line's not an issue," Jacob mumbled, "Sam wouldn't care

if--"

"Do you remember what happened when you took _Bella_ on that piece of twisted metal? Stitches, concussions --"

"You know Renesmee can't get hurt --" This was the wrong thing to say. I assumed Jacob realized it. I heard his breath catch, but it was too late.

"Can't get _hurt_?!" Edward repeated at top volume. "We still don't know what she can and can't do, Jacob! We haven't heard from Nahuel since the Volturi were here! Who knows what will and won't _kill_ her! Maybe I should ask him back to explain things..." He added cruelly.

"I think that's a little -- it wouldn't _kill_ -- I'd never put her in danger --" Jacob stuttered to defend himself.

"Well, let's see how it will turn out," Alice said, closing her striking eyes for a moment and pressing her satin hands against her temples. I looked at her, amused. _Always in everyone else's business_, as Rosalie had accused earlier today. Rosalie and Jacob had been souping up Bella's old motorcycle from her human days. Bella had insisted Jacob hold on to it (I was sure for nostalgic reasons as much as for her professed reason: that Jacob had put so much time and energy into it that he should benefit from his labor.). I could read how attached she was to what the bike symbolized. Although remembering the time that Edward had left her "for her own good" (Alice had told him it was a mistake, but Edward always thought he knew best...) made her extremely forlorn, the blackest I had ever felt her be, her time with Jacob and the motorcycle represented something important to her. A time when danger -- this kind at least -- was a sport. A reckless and stupid game to play. It meant youth and friendship and _her _Jacob and her humanity. Parts of her previous existence that she did not want to lose.

Jacob and Rosalie had bonded, for however short a period, over the only other thing they had in common besides Renesmee. Both Jacob and Rosalie were infatuated with all things automotive. I could never really understand it myself. I knew my way around a car as well as any mechanic, perhaps better than most mechanics -- certainly better than that Dowling here in Forks, I thought to myself. But the overwhelming draw of an Italian sports car or sleek new BMW for any reason other than speed eluded me. Sure, they looked nice. Sure, motorcycles were fast. But few of them were faster than I was. Or, I thought grudgingly, at least not faster than Edward was.

Rosalie and Jacob, however, had put their seldom-deterred loathing for one another aside for a few days to prepare Renesmee's birthday present. They had added some much-needed mass to the body of the little Honda, seriously increased the ability of the engine, and given it a brand new shiny bronze paint job. The custom-color just hinted at the red hue it had been under Bella's possession, but shone almost the exact shade of bronze as Renesmees's hair in the light. Rosalie and Jacob had been very proud of themselves, their feelings toward one another almost fraternal. That is, until Alice's voice had echoed out our window and into the open garage that Edward would be home from Charlie's soon and would be furious at their intended gift. Rosalie had muttered back that Edward was being ridiculous, but she seemed to know the truth of Alice's words. She had blithely strode off into the forest, muttering disparaging remarks about our brother's unreasonableness until she was out of earshot, and, I imagined, out of Edward's immediate range of thought-reading. Jacob, however, had chosen to stay. Whether out of defiance or disbelief, I wasn't sure, though I wondered at anyone who would question Alice. She may not _always_ be right, but only a fool would bet against Alice.

Sure enough, Edward had arrived moments later and immediately read the guilty pictures in Jacob's mind. It was lucky -- or perhaps unlucky, as Jacob had put so much work into the gift now -- that Edward had been away for so long. First in Alaska making arrangements for Carlisle and Esme's anniversary celebration (we were including Tanya, her sister Kate, and Kate's new mate Garrett, and Carmen and Eleazar in the festivities), and then over at Charlie's checking in on the final set-up for Renesmee's birthday party. Edward had been gone nearly a week, which had given Rosalie and Jacob the time they needed to work on the gift without him knowing anything about their plans. From the slightly guilty air I had felt sliding off Rosalie all week, I was sure she had timed this purposefully. With Jacob I couldn't tell. The thought that Edward might not approve had either not occurred to him, or it was simply overpowered by his confidence that the center of his universe would enjoy the present. Certainly if he had thought Renesmee would like the motorcycle, he would not have cared much what Edward would think, or what trouble he might get into. Renesmee's happiness was paramount.

And so Edward had launched furiously into one of his many tirades about Jacob's irresponsibility and, though I thought it was below the belt, unsuitability for his only child. When I heard him snarl out Nahuel's name the first time, the only male half-vampire in existence, to our knowledge, I had decided I would step in. I didn't think Edward would truly ever let Renesmee run off into the jungle half a world away with Nahuel, however angry he might be with Jacob, and I was sure Bella preferred the union between her best friend and her daughter to that of a stranger, no matter how unorthodox that union might be. But I could feel the intense pain, very nearly panic, rolling off Jacob's large frame in waves as Edward's words summoned up one of his darkest fears. Jacob would not survive without Renesmee.

"Now, Edward," I had said soothingly. I was contemplating whether or not the situation warranted some _physical_ soothing as well. I knew my brother would be even more furious with me once the artificial calm wore off if I did "control" the situation. I decided to try words first. "You know Jacob would never let anything happen to Renesmee. He's almost as protective as you are about her -- "

"Stay out of this, Jasper!" Edward had snapped, a low snarl building in his chest. I glanced at Jacob. He was studying his feet, but my words seemed to have bolstered his confidence. The feelings of pain were ebbing away, a rebellious defiance replacing them. I thought of Edward's overprotectiveness for the ones he loved; those who, unlike the rest of us, had once truly needed his protection. Maybe it was impossible to erase the feeling that these people needed looking-after, needed his constant supervision. Surely Bella's nearly-devastating clumsiness had warranted his paternal watchfulness. I cringed internally at the memory of her eighteenth birthday, where I had nearly ripped her throat out when I smelled the irresistible scent of the single drop of blood that oozed from her paper cut. I had been good for _so long_, and yet even now I was sure that the smell of a drop of human blood would send me into that same frenzied bloodlust. It was a good thing Charlie wasn't as clumsy as his daughter. I might have had to stay home tonight... Renesmee, on the other hand, had never so much as fallen down. Granted there was the constant surveillance of six ever-watchful vampires and a pack or two of very careful werewolves to ensure she was never injured, but I doubted she _could_ be injured by anything other than the same species that protected her. I was almost certain that only a vicious werewolf or a hostile vampire could leave a scratch on her creamy skin. Certainly running into a tree or a boulder, even at top speeds, would only damage the landscape. Renesmee would walk away unscathed, just as we would. Edward knew that, but there was always that slight anxiety within him. We just didn't _know_ everything about Renesmee. There were others like her, but they were far away and we had been unable to contact them for years. Still, the odds that she could be so easily damaged, so _human_, were slim to none. Edward was her father though, I conceded, and so I had left Jacob with his renewed sense of entitlement to wait out the confrontation with _my_ universe. My Alice.

"Hmm. Let's see." Alice repeated. She opened her eyes and smiled brightly. Her nightingale's voice trilled a merry laugh. "It will be all right. Bella will set everything straight, as usual. And I'm sure Renesmee's going to be thrilled!" She laughed again. I took her hand and held it between both of my own.

"Always in everyone else's business," I repeated with a chuckle. She smiled back at me and kissed just above my left eyebrow. I leaned in and kissed her lips gently. Smooth, satin lips, still curved in a smile. She leaned her head against my shoulder, her tiny hand still in mine.

"So what are we doing for _our_ anniversary, Major Whitlock?" She asked coyly, tracing one of the many battle scars on my arm with her finger. I rolled my eyes. Not only was our anniversary _months_ away (although it was our fiftieth, so the occasion warranted some advanced planning), but it was _impossible_ to surprise Alice. I'd only managed it a few times in the half-century we had been together, and it was only through very last-minute decisions. They were never the best gifts, not the most _thoughtful_, obviously. I wished, just for once, she would let me actually _plan_ something...

"As if you don't know," I snorted.

"Oh, Cancun! I've got the perfect bikini! Dior. And we haven't seen the ruins in _ages_!" She chattered excitedly, "It's lucky that private beach will be available! Remember the last time when we decided to go during hurricane season so we could stay at the Club Med?" She laughed at the memory of our disastrous vacation. Although the sheeting rain and gale-force winds didn't bother us, it would have been a little conspicuous if two tourists had been lounging by the pool in the middle of Hurricane Bonita. We had been stuck inside the hotel room most of the trip. Not that I minded that...

I could feel her sincere enthusiasm and was glad that I knew her well enough to orchestrate something she'd like, even if I couldn't surprise her. She looked up at me mischievously through her jet black lashes. "And you'll never guess what I found at that little boutique on the Champs Elysée! I've been saving it for months!" She winked at me, and streaked away to the enormous closet before I could coerce her into showing me the -- no doubt irresistibly scandalous -- lingerie she had stashed away. There were times when I longed for the chivalry and demureness of the era in which I was raised; the "Yes, ma'am,"s and holding doors and elegant floor-length skirts... This was not one of those times.

"Why do I have to be the only one that's ever surprised?" I asked her in mock anger, striding across the room and feigning a tug on the heavy closet doors she had closed behind her.

"There!" She said in smug satisfaction, throwing open the doors. "You won't find them now!"

"Them?" I faked a groan. I knew she was right though. Even if I had the heart to ruin her surprise, she would know where I would look. The lingerie would not be unveiled for another nine months, three weeks, four days, and a handful of hours...

"Uh-oh," Alice smiled, another mischievous pixie-grin. She turned her beautiful face expectantly in the direction of the stairway. Then she looked back at me with her head tilted to one side, as though she were preparing to eavesdrop, "Bella's home."


	2. Chapter 2

2. CELEBRATION

"HELLO CHARLIE!" ALICE'S VOICE CHIMED AS SHE SKIPPED THROUGH CHARLIE'S FRONT door. I shook my head in pretended embarrassment as I followed behind her. "I thought I'd come see if you needed any help setting up for the party. I brought over some decorations I've been working on."

"Oh, Alice, you didn't have to do that," Charlie protested, but there was a hint of relief in his rough voice. "I told everyone that _I _ wanted to throw Renesmee a birthday party for once. This was supposed to be part of _my_ gift to her."

"I know, I know," Alice smiled, picking up on the tone of relief instantly, "but you know I just can't help myself! Let me just show you what I have..." Alice gracefully placed her bag on the worn wooden chair beside the small kitchen table and pulled out a royal blue satin banner. Across the silky material could be read the phrase, "Happy Birthday Renesmee" in slightly shiny champagne-colored lettering she had stitched on during the night. She laid it gently across the table, allowing it to drape over the sides, and pulled out one of the many garlands of blue larkspur and creamy Bird's Eye day lilies she planned to utilize. Alice glanced up at Charlie's incredulous expression with an innocent expression.

I chuckled, knowing what he was thinking; the same thing everyone always thought. _Here she goes again! Good gracious!_ But Alice didn't care that our family thought she was absurd or over-the-top, that Bella cringed at the mere mention of the word "party," knowing what it would entail if Alice were involved. Whatever their reaction, people rarely had the heart to tell her no.

"Wow," Charlie sighed, "That's definitely more than I had put together. I just bought some fancy paper plates and napkins, and a couple of rolls of crepe paper." He looked to me, obviously hoping for an understanding,_ "Hey, we're guys. What do we know?"_ I smiled at him sympathetically, trying carefully not to show too many teeth. Apparently I got it right because his mouth twitched until the right corner of his lips finally shifted upward in an amused smirk. "Okay," he shrugged, "I guess I need all the help I can get. Alice, my dear, decorate away!"

Alice's brilliant teeth -- which never seemed to scare humans -- reflected the light of the shabby floor lamp as a wide grin stretched across her face. Her visions had already shown her images of Charlie's eclectic house adorned in her own creative trimmings, but I assumed it was reassuring to know first-hand that her foresight wasn't always flawed.

"Thanks, Charlie! You won't be disappointed!" Alice's voice sang with excitement.

"Oh, no," I groaned, winking at Charlie, "Now we're in for it."

Alice rolled her eyes, but I could tell the excitement of "transformation" was overtaking her and I could see her mind swelling with ideas. She flitted halfway up Charlie's narrow staircase. Charlie sighed audibly and exited the room. I caught his eyes flashing briefly to the closet where his fishing gear was stored, no doubt debating whether he had enough time to get in a little sport, now that decorating was off his hands, before the guests arrived. He didn't have time, though, and I heard him shuffling around in the garage, apparently half-heartedly attempting to organize the tiny space.

"Jazz, can you hand me the flowers?" Alice asked as she sized up the banister. I pulled out another of the garlands and passed them through the railings up to her. As she worked I also extricated the long roll of champagne-colored chiffon, a few spools of blue ribbon, and four long ropes of twinkling lights. I carefully hung the satin banner Alice had sewn together in the entryway between the kitchen and the living room as my little decorator meticulously wrapped the delphiniums and lilies around the banister, intertwining the string of flowers through the spaces between the wooden dowels.

When she was done, Alice danced down the stairs and scooped the chiffon off the scratched and stained end table, delicately cut four, four-foot long pieces and draped them over each of the scuffed up wooden kitchen chairs. I helped her tie them securely on with the ribbon. She used the remainder of the chiffon as a table cloth. I stepped outside and hung up the twinkling lights outlining the door and windows, and wrapped the last two strands around the trunks of the Red Alders in Charlie's front yard. Alice came out to join me and look over the enhancements we had made with dissatisfaction. I knew for her it wasn't much, not at all what she was usually capable of or disposed to do, but it would have to suffice due to lack of time. Our family would be on their way very shortly. Alice had foreseen that Charlie's feelings -- and ego -- would be bruised if she asked in advance to help plan. Waiting until the last minute made Charlie feel relieved, made Alice an angel of party-planning mercy. Two weeks in advance would have been questioning his ability to actually pull the soiree together.

We returned to the house, Alice dusting off this counter top with her porcelain hand and swiftly tucking away that coat where it could not be seen. I peered out the window to make sure my own motorcycle (the shiny black Ducati Edward had purchased to ride with Bella before he had decided motorcycles were a Bella-and-Jacob-bonding-thing and had opted to give it to me. I had taken it happily -- that thing was fast! It could outrun Alice's Porsche, and the rush of wind against my face was like a high. It was incredible!), the one Alice and I had arrived to Charlie's on, was not visible. Though I doubted Chief Swan would lecture me or Alice about the hazards of motorcycling, it was better not to broach the subject at all. Let sleeping dogs lie; we might have to deal with his fury soon enough. Luckily I had parked strategically and unless Charlie went to take out the trash or something, he would never see it. He was unobservant enough that I doubted he'd think to question where our car was.

As Alice straightened the house, Charlie walked through the door from the garage carrying a small champagne-colored cake covered with little blue roses made out of frosting. He must have gone to the bakery earlier in the day and been keeping the cake in the freezer. It was kind of sweet, the way Charlie thought of his only granddaughter, like she was still a little girl who needed a frilly confection encrusted in flowers. I was surprised he had opted out of the Barbie cake, though Renesmee had never been much for dolls. I wondered whether Charlie would notice how his cake "coincidentally" happened to match Alice's decorations. He didn't.

"Looks good, Alice!" Charlie exclaimed as he set the cake down on the counter. He didn't seem to be wary or afraid of me as he had been so many years ago, but he still seemed more comfortable conversing with Alice. I supposed I couldn't blame him. Emmett and I were usually considered the most frightening of the Cullens to humans. Besides, this _was_ all Alice's doing -- I merely followed orders. "I guess it did need a bit of a woman's touch, huh? Too bad Sue had to work today, she could have helped you."

"Will she be able to make it to the party?" Alice asked with feigned curiosity while she repositioned the cake in the center of the kitchen table. I was glad that Charlie had found someone like Sue to take care of him. I knew the thought had eased Bella's mind when she had moved out of Charlie's house to begin her new extended life with Edward six years ago. She had been even more ecstatic when a few years later Charlie and Sue had decided to make their relationship official and had gotten married in the small Forks chapel in town. It had been a day filled with happiness and a surprising kinship between the werewolves and vampires. I chuckled, too softly for Charlie to hear. The veritable Romeo and Juliet, the vampire's father and the werewolves' mother, ending the long vendetta with their union -- well, further easing tensions, anyway.

"Yeah, she'll be here, but she'll most likely be late. Her shift doesn't end at the hospital until six thirty," Charlie answered. "Seth's coming too."

I smiled. Seth had become like family to us.

"That's nice. Renesmee is very fond of her uncle," Alice gave Charlie a good-natured wink. Renesmee referred to all of us by familial titles; "Aunt Alice," "Uncle Jasper," "Grandma and Grandpa" for Esme and Carlisle... I had gotten used to being called "uncle" when Renesmee was a little girl, but I still thought it sounded strange for Carlisle and Esme to be referred to as _grandparents_, being that physically they would always remain in their twenties. I knew the title gave them pleasure, as this was a future they had long given up, but now that Renesmee looked as old as we all appeared, possibly even older, it was starting to feel a little unnatural. Seth Clearwater was the only "relative" Ness didn't feel the need to address with a formal title. Seth was more like a companion to her, someone who she joked and just had a good time with -- much like her Jacob, but without the unsettling soulmate quality attached to it.

I glanced at the rooster clock above the stove. It was just minutes shy of five o'clock. "They should be arriving any minute now."

As Alice fussed with the chiffon chair covers one last time I heard the distinctive roar of several engines about a mile or two down the road. I knew they were close and I felt an ardent feeling of satisfaction and contentment wash over me. Part of it was Alice's emotions, but most was all mine. The last six years had brought me nothing but intense, almost unrealistic, amounts of joy. My family was happy, together ... complete. It seemed appropriate that we should be celebrating the very life that gave us this sensation of wholeness. I gazed out the kitchen window and watched as Carlisle's Mercedes, Bella's Ferrari, and Jacob's vintage Rabbit appeared around the bend, racing at ridiculous speeds -- especially considering their destination was the residency of the Chief of Police himself -- and swiftly, but neatly, positioned themselves into street-side parking spots. Charlie wouldn't even have bothered to ask about the missing vehicles if they had decided to arrive without them today. He had been exposed to countless supernatural occurrences since Bella's addition to our family -- he rarely even flinched anymore when something bizarre or unexplainable happened. Even so, we all still made our best efforts to be as "human" as possible around him. Besides, carrying Renesmee's presents while running would have been a bit cumbersome.

Carlisle strolled around to the passenger door to open it for Esme at a very human pace, while Emmett and Rosalie exited out the back lugging two brightly wrapped packages in their sturdy arms. Emmett handed the large oblong bundle he was carrying to Carlisle and slung his now free arm over Rosalie's perfect shoulders. Edward and Bella emerged from the Ferrari, Bella holding a small rectangular present wrapped with simple brown parcel paper, garnished with a single yellow rose tied on with cream-colored raffia. Edward sauntered around to the trunk and scooped out a generous-sized box with an ample blue ribbon wrapped around and tied in a broad, lavish bow at the top. Jacob and Renesmee appeared outside the Rabbit strolling toward the house, swinging their entwined hands back and forth. In a way, Renesmee and Jacob were like Bella and Jacob if Bella's heart hadn't already belonged to my brother. They were the best of friends, but I wondered when they would be more. I knew it was just a matter of time.

Seth clambered out of the back seat of the Rabbit and followed closely behind them, still watching Jacob with adulation, still cheerful and exuberant. Ah, Seth. That kid was just so darned _happy_. After his mom had married Charlie, Seth had moved into Bella's old bedroom -- the first redecoration the room had undergone since Bella's birth, I'd been told -- though he still spent most his time down at La Push or over at our spacious house.

Leah, the only "family member" missing from this occasion, had seen her mother's move as the perfect opportunity to move herself. I had never really cared for Leah -- her emotions were always so negative, and they made me feel uncomfortable -- until Edward had relayed to me her tragic story. How she and Sam Uley had been high school sweethearts, pledged to be married, until Sam had imprinted on Leah's cousin and best friends, Emily Young. And then, as if that betrayal and heartbreak were not enough, Leah had become a werewolf and had to share Sam's thoughts, and he hers. Every loving memory Sam had with Emily, every tender moment, every passionate embrace -- Leah had to see it all, _feel_ it all, as if she were living it too. And worse still, Sam heard _her_ thoughts, her devastation, her pain, her rage -- all of it was laid bare for Sam to see. Leah couldn't even put on a brave face. Sam knew the truth, knew everything she felt.

After that story, I had seen Leah in a different light. I still didn't like to be around her, to have her pain and sadness and anger become my own, but I pitied her now -- a fact she would have ripped my throat out for if she had known. Well, she would have _tried_, anyway.

And so Leah had escaped when she had the chance, left her mother and brother and pack behind. And she had been glad to do so, I could tell. I wasn't sure quite where she had gone. Seth would tell us he'd received a letter or a call or a postcard from her from time to time. The last I had heard she was in Atlanta working as a waitress while she took some night courses. Seth said she was thinking about applying to college in the fall. I was happy for her. I wanted her to get as much peace and happiness from this cursed life as she could. She had no more control over what she had become than I had, and I knew the toll that could take on someone. If I had not found Alice, the reason for my existence, I would have been bitter indeed. Leah's temperament would have looked like a basket of kittens next to mine. I couldn't really regret the path my life had taken now, but for Leah, with no one ... I thought, as I often did when I thought of Leah (which, granted, was not often), that this whole imprinting business was quite unfair. Why did it happen to some and not to others? Leah's life would be so much more peaceful if she had just imprinted on someone. Instead she was left with the only memory of true love she had; a love that had torn her heart into a million pieces, stomped on it, and run it over with a tractor. Poor Leah. I hoped she did go to college, got something of her own. Maybe she'd find a new love the old-fashioned way.

The resonance of exuberant greetings filled the small house and warm embraces were given all around. I heard Charlie tense almost imperceptibly at Bella's warm "hello." For the most part, Charlie had long since gotten used to her now flowing, sweet voice; more like singing than speaking, but I assumed there was always a split second of subconscious reaction to the voice he had known so well, now somehow "wrong."

There were smiles and laughter and good-natured jibes as the company milled around Charlie's tiny home, settling into corners and chairs, leaning against walls and banisters. I grinned brightly as the warmth of the atmosphere permeated my senses. These were the moments when I was supremely grateful to possess my gifts. This emotional climate of love and happiness and overwhelming joy was certainly one I was glad to experience. Much better than the previous "family" climate of greed and hate and fear I had been surrounded by with Maria, my creator. I shook my head minutely to dispel the memories, looking down at my little Alice, positively glowing with exuberant anticipation. Although the presence of Jacob and Renesmee severely clouded Alice's visions, I didn't need her sight to see that this was going to be a delightful occasion. Smiling brightly, Alice leaned her head against my arm. I angled my head down and laid it on top of her hair, breathing a sigh of contentment. My hand searched for hers, easily locating her tiny, elegant fingers, and I began to stroke them tenderly with my own. As much as I was devoted to my entire family, I wouldn't be much without the love I had, and thankfully received in return, for my beloved angel.

"You remembered our gift, right?" Alice whispered to me, so softly it was barely audible.

"Where's your faith?" I teased, rolling my eyes and patting the right side of my coat, "It's safe and sound in my pocket." I squeezed her fingers tightly in my own.

As soon as the commotion died down a bit and everyone starting settling into the handkerchief-sized living room, Alice cleared her throat daintily and announced, "Time to open presents!"

"Jeez, Alice, way to cut to the chase," Emmett jeered. Everyone laughed and Alice stuck out her tongue. I knew she considered the giving and receiving of gifts to be the _purpose_ of birthday parties. Besides, she was very excited to give Renesmee our gift.

Everyone turned their gaze to Renesmee, who was leaning over the back of the worn living room couch. It was astounding to look at her and remember that she was small enough to cradle in our arms just six short years ago. She was a grown woman now, and positively stunning, I might add. She was taller than her mother by about three or four inches, and lean and muscular like her father. Her face now looked as mature as Bella's, with the same deep soulful eyes the color of melted milk chocolate. Her eyes always seemed to have a sparkle in them, as though they were reflecting a sunset, lighting her face with a brilliance that was difficult to describe. She had Edward's straight nose and angular jaw, but Bella's high cheekbones. And just as Bella's cheeks used to flush an appealing pink when she became the center of attention, so Renesmee's face blazed at this very moment. Her snowy front teeth were biting down on her pouted bottom lip and her eyes were focused on the shag carpet beneath her. She had retained a little of that childish shyness she had exhibited as a toddler, apparently inheriting some of her mother's distaste for attention as well. She let her bronze cascading curls fall across her face, hiding some of her blush -- a habit she had acquired when she was only a few weeks old.

Jacob raised his foot and playfully kicked the back of her shoes. "Are you ready to be spoiled?" The corners of Renesmee's mouth raised in a childlike grin.

"I think I'm used to it by now," she giggled, as though she were turning her true age.

"Ooh, mine first!" Alice insisted, "Well, _Jasper's_ and mine first." She shot me an apologetic glance. I just shook my head, smirking. I knew Alice tended to get carried away when she was gift-giving. I reached into my pocket and handed her the small, turquoise-colored box adorned with a simple white bow. I glanced at Renesmee's exquisite face and noticed the gleam in her eyes as she recognized the Tiffany's logo. She may be a bit averse to attention, but Renesmee was considerably more accepting of gifts than her mother -- not that she had much choice either way.

"Here you are, my darling niece! I hope you like it," Alice almost danced with anticipation as she handed Renesmee the tiny box.

"Oh, Aunt Alice, you know I love everything you give me -- you have impeccable taste. You two are the greatest!"

I could feel Rosalie's glare on my little gift-giver. Alice smiled brightly, trying to keep the smugness off her face. Rosalie and Alice were always a bit competitive when it came to their only niece.

"You've given us more than we thought to hope fore, Ness," I smiled fondly, and then added, "but you'd better open your gift before Alice combusts!"

"Okay, okay," Renesmee took a deep breath before pulling on one end of the silky white ribbon. She slowly and gently lifted the turquoise lid and moved the fluffy, flat swathe of cotton aside. "Ooh," she smiled broadly, and pulled out a short silver chain with a shiny silver heart-shaped pendant on the end. The heart was adorned with diamonds and bore an engraving etched onto the back.

"Read it," Alice cooed, sliding her delicate arm into mine.

Renesmee set the small box on the end table next to the couch and turned the delicate charm over. As she read she put her hand to her chest and I could feel the emotion emanating from her, reflected in her shining eyes.

"It's beautiful," she breathed in her melodic voice.

I glanced at everyone's faces out of the corner of my eye as they watched Renesmee curiously, wondering what had stirred up the sentiment. After a long minute she seemed to realize everyone's eyes were upon her.

"Oh," she said sheepishly, "Would you all like to see? I can pass it around." She handed the bracelet to Jacob so it could make its circulation. "Thank you Aunt Alice and Uncle Jasper!" she exclaimed, squeezing first Alice and then me tightly. "I love it," she crooned softly in Alice's ear.

"I'm glad," Alice purred back, passing her off to me. I held her affectionately.

I, of course, didn't need to see the dainty little bracelet to know why she was moved. Alice had selected a popular Tiffany's bracelet and pendant but had, of course, added her own personal touches. One side of the silver heart pendant was bordered in eight delicate half-carat diamonds that symbolized Renesmee's intimate and loving family. Alice had also allowed me to add a gesture of my own; an inscription engraved onto the reverse side of the charm, forever embossed on Renesmee's symbolic heart. The passage read, in tiny, elegant script:

Though your heart may wander far and wide

And home may not your notice keep

Our hearts will linger by your side

Our love eternal, strong, and deep

Keep our hearts with you, our darling little girl

Love forever and ever,

Jasper and Alice

It wasn't much, certainly no Tennyson or Whitman, but it was from the heart. I watched as everyone admired the gift. I was pleased that Renesmee liked it and the warmth and love it symbolized. Even though Alice failed to get picture-perfect reception on her unique foresight regarding Renesmee, she still had her natural "woman's instincts" -- what girl didn't love Tiffany's?

After the bracelet made its rounds, Renesmee resumed the gift opening. The first few presents seemed to center around developing her artistic talents -- giving her new skills to hone and hobbies to try.

"Challenge. Right." Rosalie snorted sarcastically when Esme prefaced hers and Carlisle's gift by explaining she wished to give her granddaughter a new "challenge."

"You never know," Renesmee shrugged, trying to control the twitch to her lips, "I'm bound to bad at _something_." Her eyes rolled to the ceiling and her mouth had finally curved upward in an amused expression.

"Yeah, yeah, you're perfect," Seth grinned, elbowing her playfully in the ribs, "Just open your present."

It was inevitable that Renesmee would eventually surpass her teachers in any subject, hobby, or skill -- it would have been seriously annoying if we didn't love her so much. Her musical prowess had always been one of Esme's favorite talents. Renesmee had been Edward's protégé while learning the piano until she was about two and a half -- then the torch was passed. After she had mastered the piano, she became bored with it, like all her other wide range of talents. Although she never seemed to lose her appreciation of the skills and knowledge she obtained so quickly, her desire to conquer the next thing that caught her interest took over. There were numerous pastimes she had taken up on a whim over the last several years, mastered, then set aside. She was amazing at all of them: designing and building doll houses, after she had seen the endless effort and zeal Esme poured into one of her own renovations (though she never had much patience for the dolls themselves); sailing the boat Edward had gotten her on nearby Lake Crescent; playing the violin; charcoal drawing; water painting; creating stained glass designs; play writing -- and directing ... just to name a few.

Esme and Carlisle handed her their gift, a _Gibson Hummingbird_ electric-acoustic guitar and thick book entitled "The Guitar Bible." Ness had recently hinted at a desire to take up the guitar, and it seemed Esme couldn't pass up the chance to have the house filled with her vibrant music again.

Next was an expensive and lavish collection of oil paints, brushes, canvas, and paper from Edward, housed in a rich velvet and brocade cube box with antique silver fastenings. After mastering most other forms of painting and drawing, Edward had decided to encourage Renesmee to give oils a try. Although I appreciated Ness' magnificent gift in art, I didn't have a clue where we were going to hang anymore of her masterpieces.

Bella handed her daughter the next gift accompanied by a loving squeeze of the hand. Ness smiled and pulled out the yellow rose that was garnished on top of the plainly decorated package, holding it to her perfect, straight nose, inhaling the sweet floral scent. I thought this was more a "human gesture" than anything -- we could all smell the rose without its close proximity. She reached forward and stuck the stem in Bella's thick, dark hair behind her left ear. They exchanged little smiles that somehow communicated more than any of us could read. Renesmee and Bella had always shared a very unique -- and powerful -- bond. It was unbreakable. It had been since the moment they had laid eyes on one another. Even though Renesmee's intellect probably surpassed all of ours -- maybe even put together -- she ran to Bella for everything. She longed for her advice, knowledge, approval ... anything Bella could offer her. Of course, the love Bella had for her only daughter extended through space and time and back again. I knew she felt creating and carrying Renesmee was the best thing she had ever done.

With another meaningful smile, Renesmee turned back to her gift and untied the the raffia bow. As she traced her dainty finger under the brown parcel paper and lifted the tape up to expose the two antique books underneath, I mentally thanked my lucky stars that Renesmee had not inherited her mother's proclivity for paper cuts. The books were an original edition of _Idylls of the King and a Selection of Poems _by Alfred Tennyson -- Renesmee knew the sentimental value of this book immediately, as she remembered learning to read as her mother recited the poems to her every night -- and an early edition of _Emma_ by Jane Austen. Renesmee accepted her mother's gift and looked into her deep eyes with admiration.

"Wow. Thanks, Mom. I don't know what to say," she breathed, admiring the aged leather.

"Nothing some intense Google searches and a lot of bribery couldn't accomplish," Bella had grinned, waving her hand nonchalantly, "But I'm glad you like them."

Seth's gift was simple; two CDs, one burned at home and labeled in his own messy scrawl (I recognized the title immediately: "Werewolves In London" by Warren Zevon, a song Seth, Jacob, and Renesmee would belt out after a successful hunting trip. It was funny the first couple times, but now I just rolled my eyes when I heard them approaching in the distance, singing their hearts out while racing back toward the house.), the other was shiny and new and boasted dark, artistic cover art -- a new band I had heard of once or twice, thanks to Edward's musical predilection, called the "Young Werewolves." How fitting, I thought, smiling.

Renesmee pulled the rather dilapidated ribbon from Seth's parcel and leaned over to Jacob, wrapping the bedraggled bow around his forehead.

"Tarzan-style," she snickered.

"Shouldn't the birthday girl get to wear the trimmings?" Jacob grimaced as he allowed his one-and-only to fasten the blue ribbon behind his head, "At least let me have the rose." He eyed Bella's rose with sarcastically covetous eyes.

"It's my party and I'll style my guests as I want to!" she sang the words in her new silly rhythm. Jacob shook his head, flashing her a radiant smile. It was amazing the things

Jacob would let Ness do to him -- that imprinting business was truly incredible, or dreadful, depending on how you looked at it. If anyone had told me seven years ago that Jacob Black would play _Antony and Cleopatra _in a palace made of couch cushions and a costume made of Alice's gold-sequined scarves and lamé belt; or that he would compose -- rather lamentable -- poetry to recite to little Ness draped in Rosalie's favorite sea-blue velvet dress as she leaned out Edward's old window when she had gone through her _Romeo and Juliet_ phase; or allowed his thick, shaggy wolf fur to be braided into a thousand tiny braids, each tied with a yellow ribbon ... I would never have believed it. I couldn't help grinning at the memory. And I thought Emmett was whipped!

I recalled my attention to the festivities as Renesmee opened the proffered box from Charlie. The package was long, skinny, and white, and was tied with sparkly red ribbon curled into tight ringlets at the ends. I was quite certain the embellishment was not Charlie's doing. I noted the hopeful expression creeping upon Charlie's face as Renesmee opened the box and extricated a heavy aluminum baseball bat.

"It's a Louisville Slugger!" Charlie exclaimed with enthusiasm.

"It's wonderful!" Renesmee cried delightedly as she examined the bat in greater detail. It had a long black handle with a sturdy silver barrel and the word "Warrior" scrolled in bold red and white letters across the widest section. "Remind me to thank Sue when she gets home, too."

I was glad, for Charlie's sake, that Renesmee had outgrown her childhood habit of non-verbal communication while in his presence. I knew Charlie had started to worry that maybe Ness was afraid of him or didn't like him, as the months had stretched into a year, then two, without a word from his granddaughter in his presence. It was probably realizing that very concern that had prompted Ness to speak her first words to her grandfather on her third Christmas, after Charlie had given her -- at Sue's suggestion -- a chest of dress-up clothes he had accumulated from various thrift stores, friends, and shops. Charlie's face had gone blank with surprise when the high, clear,

_"Thank you, very much, Grandpa,"_ had flowed from Renesmee's mouth. Charlie's own mouth had fallen open in surprise, though Renesmee smiled at him innocently, as though nothing were unusual.

_"Um, well, you're, ah, you're quite welcome, sweetheart,"_ he had stuttered, but moments later there had been a grin plastered across his face that didn't budge for the rest of the evening.

"Of course, honey. Well, we know how much you all like to play baseball together, so we thought a brand new bat of your very own was appropriate. I, uh, bought a bat for myself, too," Charlie admitted sheepishly, "I figured this way I can join you next time you're up for a game."

Emmet groaned, too softly for Charlie to hear, and we all exchanged anxious glances. We knew that we'd have to tone it down and play at human strength and speed if Charlie were to join us. It would be a tortuous game for all of us, but for Charlie's enjoyment we would bear it.

Renesmee playfully took a swing with her new bat -- quite a show of dexterity in Charlie's tiny living room -- and Jacob dove backward pretending to catch her fly ball. They laughed together, amused at their own antics. I saw Edward shake his head in disapproval. We _all_ knew it was just a matter of time before things turned more serious for the two of them. For goodness sakes, they were destined for each other -- you would think Edward would have gotten used to it by now. You would think _I_ would have gotten used to it by now. And she wasn't even _my_ daughter, technically. I supposed even Bella still turned a little squeamish at the thought of her best friend and her only child creating a life of their own someday.

"All right, enough goofing around, you two. Don't your favorite aunt and uncle get to give you their present?" Rosalie interjected as Alice shot her an annoyed glare. Rose, of course, ignored Alice's narrowed expression and extended her hand to Renesmee, offering a daintily wrapped gift.

Renesmee took it and unwrapped very carefully, trying not to tear the smooth, powdery pink paper. As the book underneath slowly became visible, Renesmee's brow began to pucker in confusion. She must have realized quickly the face she was making, because she promptly smoothed her expression to one of polite interest.

Rosalie and Emmett let out a little snicker at her reaction and she flashed her aunt and uncle a flustered look, wondering what the joke was.

"What?" Emmet questioned, trying to hold back the guffaw he was dying to let loose, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Umm ... yeah, it's great," Renesmee struggled to articulate her words, "I actually don't know much about motorcycles. I'm sure it will be an interesting read," she held up the book entitled _Motorcycle: Evolution, Design, Passion_ by Mick Walker.

Rosalie, Emmett, and Jacob burst out laughing. Edward ground his teeth and grunted, while Bella put her hand around his arm and squeezed gently. Though Bella had convinced him that there truly was no danger in Renesmee riding a motorcycle, Edward had conceded with poor grace. I knew he was still irritated and a little anxious about the intended gift.

Charlie's face was anticipating something he knew he wasn't going to like, and Alice tensed. I guessed she had just foreseen a clear picture of Charlie's strong objection to the next turn of events. I gritted my teeth but didn't say anything. Though I had no problems with the present, I _had_ been opposed to the intended location of the presentation. Why had they decided to unveil the motorcycle _here_? Jacob knew how strongly Charlie was opposed to motorcycles (and I could only imagine how much more strongly he'd object to his only grandchild riding one), so why upset him? Alice had already warned them about the renowned Charlie-fit the gift would unleash -- who in their right mind would question Alice? I growled to myself softly. Stubborn as a mule Rosalie, that's who. I supposed I could ease the coming tension if need be, but I was annoyed at the necessity.

Renesmee looked at Jacob in dismay. She could easily conclude Emmett and Rosalie were up to something, but she couldn't figure out why Jacob would have anything to do with it.

"Why don't we cut the cake and let these troublemakers get ahold of themselves," Alice chimed abruptly. Rosalie shot her an abrasive look, followed by the incredulous faces of Emmett, Jacob, Renesmee, and Charlie.

Alice walked determinedly into the tiny kitchen, dragging me behind her, hoping, I was sure, that people would follow our lead. I looked over my shoulder and noticed Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Bella, and Seth following quickly behind, looking as uncomfortable as I did. The rest of the party remained in the living room with confusion -- or livid irritation in Rosalie's case -- stamped on their features.

"C'mon, everyone! Whatever your little prank was, I'm sure it can wait until _later_," Alice strongly emphasized the last word, raising her eyebrows and giving them a stern look.

Emmett huffed a loud sigh and swung his huge arm around Rosalie's neck, pulling her grudgingly toward the kitchen. When she was close enough Alice whispered under her breath, "Now is _not_ the time!"

"When will you ever mind your own business?" Rosalie hissed back, swinging her long golden hair in Alice's face. I clenched my fists in annoyance. A line from "Gone With the Wind," threatened by Rhett to Scarlett, flipped into my mind, as it often did in Rosalie's presence:

"I've always thought a good lashing with a buggy whip would benefit you immensely."

Well, there wasn't much I could -- or was willing -- to do about Rosalie. We usually just ignored her and considered her Emmett's problem.

Charlie eventually made it into the kitchen, shaking his head like he always did when the Cullen family did something odd or inexplicable. Jacob and Renesmee remained in the living room leaning against the back of the couch, Ness' eyes pressing Jacob for answers as she bit down on her bottom lip. I wondered whether he would cave and admit everything -- I had never known him _not_ to give Ness her way.

I heard a car's engine as it slowly approached the house and listened as the vehicle made its way into Charlie's driveway. _Good. Sue's home._ Maybe Alice could convince Jacob that he should reveal the motorcycle at some other place and time during this small distraction and save us all the commotion. Sue's driver side door slammed shut and her soft footsteps padded across the walk and up the porch steps until she opened the front door.

"Happy birthday, Nessie!" she called excitedly as she stepped into the foyer, pulling off her coat and hanging it by the door. "Sorry I'm late -- Melinda and Dr. Gerandi called in sick. You should be glad you have the night off, Carlisle."

"Do they need any help?" Carlisle asked, his voice full of concern.

"Oh, no, they're handling everything just fine. There was just an hour or two where we thought the emergency room's walls were closing in on us! It wasn't really that busy, though. Typical, huh?" she shook her head and laughed as she walked over to Renesmee. "How's your party so far, sweetie? Did you already open your gifts?"

"Most of them," she shot a glance at Jacob who quickly studied his shoes, "Thank you so much for the baseball bat! I can't wait to use it!"

"It's a Louisville Slugger, you know," Sue explained, as though she had been coached. She strolled toward the kitchen and Renesmee and Jacob followed her.

"Yeah, I know. It's great!"

"Sue, come and have some cake!" Alice's voice rose in crescendo as she sliced the knife dexterously into the frosting, smoothly cutting five moderately-sized pieces. She placed the pieces onto the paper plates Charlie had provided and starting handing them to Sue, Seth, Charlie, Jacob, and Renesmee. Charlie was the only one at the party who didn't know the specifics of why we Cullens didn't eat human food, but he was used to the odd behavior and chose not to ask, sticking to his "need-to-know" statute. Renesmee didn't prefer to eat human food, but I assumed she would choose to be polite since it was _her_ birthday cake.

Alice handed Jacob his plate last and nodded her head back toward the living room, hinting for him to follow. I watched through my peripheral vision, pretending to be absorbed in Carlisle and Sue's discussion about events at the hospital. Luckily no one ever expected me to talk much, so it was easy to feign absorption while my thoughts were elsewhere. I listened as Alice walked Jacob through the living room and over to the staircase where they would be out of direct sight from the others. Jacob gave her a look like he knew what was coming.

"Look, Alice, I may not read minds, but I know what you're thinking," he grumbled defensively.

"Okay, then, what do _you_ think? I know Rosalie won't be too pleased to hold off on the unveiling, but you know _first hand_ how Charlie will react. This has been such a lovely evening, don't spoil it now... Not for _Renesmee_," I knew the last part would seal the deal. Jacob was worse than all of us -- he would do whatever it took to keep the love of his life happy. We all tried not to make it a habit to manipulate his feelings in this regard, but I guessed Alice felt little remorse about making the exception now.

"I guess it wouldn't be _such_ a big deal to give it to her later, back at the house," Jacob slumped, knowing he had lost, "But, hey, _you're_ telling blondie! That girl has a tem-per! I don't know how Emmett deals!"

"Oh, please, I've been dealing with Rosalie for nearly fifty years. She comes off like she fights like a bull, but she concedes quicker than you might think. Her emotions are impulsive, to say the least, but she's smart, and she loves Renesmee -- she comes around to the more sensible solution most of the time."

Jacob gave her a weak grin and raised his arm to lay his massive hand on her shoulder. It was an odd picture, giant Jacob and miniscule Alice next to one another, each accentuating the other's size.

"You're all right, Alice."

"It's about time you realized it, dog," she trilled with a wink and a smile, "Let's go join the others."

They sauntered back to the kitchen with their arms linked together like they were old chums. Alice caught my indulgent smirk and released Jacob's arm, shooting him one more fleeting simper. She danced over to my side lightly, laying her porcelain hand upon my arm.

"So ... catastrophe avoided?" I asked as I stroked the side of her jaw with my fingers, proceeding down the nape of her neck. Alice's satin skin felt so tantalizing, I had to focus on the next set of playful words out of her mouth. Oh ... and I had to breathe ...

"Oh, you know me. The peacemaker is triumphant once again. Did you really ever doubt me?"

"Not in a million years," I chuckled, leaning down to press my lips to her forehead. I lingered there for a moment, inhaling her scent, then I slowly turned my body toward the rest of the party.

"I need to go smooth things over with Rose," Alice sighed, her expression clouding, "Give me a sec, 'kay?" She gave my hand a quick squeeze.

"Would you like any ... help?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. Rose -- and Emmett, for that matter -- would be none too happy with me if I did "assist," but if Alice wanted me to I'd accept their irritation later.

"Thanks, Jazz, but I think it's best in the long run for me to talk to her without any assistance from the metaphysical realm. She wouldn't be too happy when the pseudo-calm faded."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed, somewhat relieved, "Good luck." I grinned at her, imagining Rosalie's pouting reaction. Alice twirled like a dancer to face Rosalie, sulking on the other side of the kitchen as she leaned her head into Emmett's broad chest. Alice sighed softly and then started toward her. Again I watched her from the corner of my eye, not wanting to call any more attention to the quiet dispute than necessary. As she neared our most self-centered sister, Alice suddenly halted and narrowed her eyes at Edward. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. I felt a twinge of annoyance. Their little non-verbal conversations could be so obnoxious -- though in this case I thought I could guess what Edward was relaying.

Edward turned and meandered back toward the living room. I rolled my eyes, realizing how ridiculous this was becoming. I could see Alice was doing the same, but she followed behind him anyway. I turned my body slightly to keep them in my view. Charlie or Sue would never notice that my attention was not on the various conversations -- not that they noticed me much anyway. Other than Charlie's vaguely uncomfortable reaction to my presence, my general silence and standoffishness seemed to place me on the periphery of his notice, as it had once done with Bella.

Once Edward and Alice had reached the staircase, Edward started in on her in a low voice. I had to strain my ears to hear them.

"Drop it, Alice. She's already planning on sneaking out and riding the motorcycle back to the house tonight after the party and giving it to Renesmee there. She's just disappointed that she'll have to wait -- her book was hardly the gasp-inducing gift she had planned on giving -- and she hates to admit you were right."

Alice looked annoyed at his words and I could feel the subtle anger in her. I couldn't blame her -- _Drop it, Alice_ -- could he be more patronizing? Edward was _infamous_ for his epic overreactions. Weren't _we_ all trying to get _him_ to be the reasonable one half the time, the one who needed to _drop it_?

"I apologize for my poor choice of words," he responded sincerely after hearing her agitated thoughts, "I just didn't want you to waste your breath. Rose understands why it isn't the most appropriate time. She just needs her fifteen minutes to pout."

Alice relaxed, accepting the apology instantly. It was hard for her to stay mad at Edward.

"Well ... thanks for letting me know. I wasn't exactly looking forward to broaching the subject. I should set things right with her later, though -- after she gets most the moping out of her system," Alice's lips twitched into a wicked smirk, "Maybe I should let her and Em 'sleep' on it."

Edward shook his head, grimacing at her lewd innuendo. "Well, that was an image I did _not_ need in my head. Thanks, sis."

"Whatever. How do you keep it _out_ of your head, reading their thoughts all the time?"

"It is not without effort, believe me," he wrinkled his nose.

"I guess that's one of the drawbacks of eavesdropping on people's thoughts all day," Alice sniffed sarcastically, "Shall we return to your daughter's _sixth_ birthday party?"

"Six. Incredible. I would be ecstatic if she were physically and intellectually turning six ... so much less to worry myself sick about," he groaned.

"Well, think about what you put Charlie through with Bella," Edward shot her a horrified look. Alice continued quickly, "I'm not _judging_, I'm simply pointing out that it's the circle of life. You put Charlie through hell, unintentionally of course, but now the shoe's on the other foot. Now you know what it's like. You were once the overprotective boyfriend, and now you're the overprotective father," she snickered, elbowing her favorite brother in the ribs as they returned slowly to the kitchen.

"Yeah, maybe it's karma," Edward mumbled. Then he grinned wickedly and, in a movement as quick as lightning, moved his hand to the top of Alice's head, suddenly ruffling her hair.

"Hey now!" Alice protested with real annoyance. We all knew not to mess with Alice's hair -- she was almost as particular about it as Rosalie.

"Here, Jazz, take her back please," Edward chuckled as he picked her up and handed her off to me.

"If I have to," I answered, grinning. Alice stuck her tongue out at me as I pulled her into my waiting arms. I rested my chin on her already-flawless hair and wrapped my arms around her tiny waist. I rocked her back and forth slowly, just appreciating the occasion. My little Renesmee, our little miracle. Six years old. And if that weren't enough, a woman now. I watched her as she wiped three fingerfuls of frosting across Jacob's mouth, laughing exuberantly. Jacob, of course, took it without retaliation, as Renesmee knew he would. I stiffened slightly as Ness wiped one elegant finger across Jacob's chin, removing a touch of frosting, and delicately stuck her finger in her mouth, licking it off. The action seemed innocent enough, but I couldn't help noticing the undertones to it. Maybe I was reading things into the situation. I had felt nothing new from Renesmee, no change in her friendly, possessive feeling for Jacob. There was nothing romantic there -- at least not on her side.

After another couple hours of chatting and reminiscing, some loose-made plans for a game of baseball in the upcoming week, and three more helpings each of cake for Jacob and Seth, the party began to wind down. As much as I enjoyed these family functions, the necessity of "acting human" and breathing in the enticing scent of Charlie and Sue's blood for an entire evening began to wear on me, and I was anxious to leave. Maybe I should enroll in school again somewhere, just to get desensitized to the smell of humans again. I sighed. When would this ever be _easy_ for me, the way it was for Carlisle, the way it appeared to be for Bella and Edward? If I was being truthful with myself, _no one _seemed to have much difficulty being in close proximity with humans ... except me. Gah! The weakest link. Still.

Alice, as she so often did, seemed to sense my tension. She took my arm and brushed her fingers along my clenched jaw reassuringly.

"We'll go soon," she promised in a whisper so low, I doubted even the immortals would hear it. I nodded my head the merest fraction of an inch.

"It's too bad you boys finished off the cake," Charlie chuckled as he rubbed his stomach, "I'm starting to get a little hungry."

Sue rolled her eyes blatantly and walked to the kitchen, but there was a smile on her broad face. She began pulling various ingredients out of the fridge, setting them on the counter. I wondered if Charlie ever ate leftovers anymore. Sue was an excellent cook, and even if there had been food remaining from a meal, I doubted she'd consider it "proper" to serve it to her new husband. Besides, if Seth's appetite at our house was any indication, I was certain edible provisions did not last long in this house.

"I think we'd better go home ourselves," Carlisle said politely as he rose to say his goodbyes. He left the allusion to supper as no more than a hint -- none of us wanted to spark Charlie's curiosity about what we actually _did_ eat.

"Oh, well, if you have to," Charlie replied, his eyes darting furtively to the television. I knew his desire to be polite was warring with kick-off. I tried not to smile. Charlie was as relieved as I was that we were leaving.

"It was a wonderful party, Grandpa. Thank you," Renesmee bubbled as she gave her grandfather a warm hug.

"I'm glad you liked it," Charlie grinned sincerely, patting Ness on the back. "And let me know when you want to try out your present," he hinted again.

"Whenever the weather permits," Ness promised, "Thank you, Sue. I'm so glad you could make it."

"Oh, it was my pleasure honey. I can't believe you're, well--" she seemed to stumble over the words. I guessed she had been planning to say "six," but she decided against it. "--all grown up," she finished awkwardly. Renesmee smiled politely.

Charlie hugged Esme and Rosalie goodbye, shaking Carlisle's hand warmly and slapping Jacob on the back. Emmett and I received awkward nods and forced smiles, which was all right with me. Alice pranced up to Charlie, embracing him enthusiastically and planting a kiss on his cheek. I bit my lip. Charlie's answering blush sent a twinge of fire down my throat. I swallowed, feeling annoyed with Alice and ashamed of myself.

"Thanks for everything, Alice. The place looked great."

"No problem. Thanks for letting me force my help on you," she laughed her silver wind chime laugh. I edged further out the door, hinting that it was time for us to go. Alice ignored me, turning to Sue. "We had a lovely time, Sue. I'm so glad you were able to get away from the hospital. The family wouldn't have been complete without you."

"Er, thanks," Sue managed. As much as she adored Renesmee and had come to love Bella, as Charlie's daughter, perhaps even admired Carlisle as a gifted doctor, Sue had never quite gotten over her aversion to the rest of us. She certainly didn't share her son's sincere liking or Jacob's acquired comfort with us. Just as Leah had never really trusted or cared for us, so Sue remained more resolutely polite than anything else to the majority of the Cullen family. I didn't mind -- I felt the same way about many of the werewolves -- but Alice was determined to win her over. It was going to be a long battle.

Alice flashed Sue a dazzling smile, hugged Seth tightly, then pirouetted out the door to my side. Edward and Bella lingered behind, Bella unwilling to part from her father so soon.

I walked with Alice's tiny hand in mine around the side of the house to the Ducati. The dull glow of the back porch light glinted off the glossy black paint. Alice sighed.

"I don't know why you're so fond of this thing," she sniffed, swinging her leg over the seat behind me with such grace she looked like she were performing Swan Lake. "It always messes up my hair."

I chuckled. "Though it's true there are better ways to mess up your hair," I looked over my shoulder at her, grinning mischievously, "this one is _almost_ as fun."

Alice rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling back.

"So, we're hunting?" she said, more of a statement of fact than a question. She had already seen that after the evening of pulsing human heartbeats I would feel disposed to hunt. I felt guilty again, then angry. Why was I the only one, the only one...

"You did wonderfully tonight. Don't be so hard on yourself."

I frowned but still didn't speak. I walked the bike down the road a bit so Charlie wouldn't hear the roar as I kick-started the engine to life -- at least, if he did hear it he wouldn't know it was me. Alice wrapped her arms securely around my waist, pressing her face into my back. I liked the way this felt, Alice's arms tight around me as I protected her from the elements. Well, protected her hair, anyway. We accelerated toward the big white house, gaining speed. I wondered whether I could push the Ducati past a hundred and sixty...

The wind rushed against my face and I felt that exhilaration, that high, that only reckless speed could bring. This was pretty close to perfection -- practically flying through the trees with Alice close beside me, holding me tightly... The weakest link wasn't doing so badly, I guess. Alice would keep me on the wagon so I could look myself in the mirror. The rest would come in time.


	3. Chapter 3

3. ANNOUNCEMENT

ALICE AND I WERE ALONE IN THE DARKENED FOREST, AS STILL AND COLD AS THE

outcropping of granite on which we reclined. The stone jutted slightly out over a shallow stream and we both sat lost in our own thoughts, yet, somehow, perfectly attuned to each other's. I was laying on my back, my knees and face pointing toward the unusually clear sky, my head resting in Alice's lap. Her small figure was completely motionless, her satin hands resting on my stone chest. My hands were folded across my stomach as I stared up at the stars, admiring the twinkling lights so seldom seen here in Forks. The unseasonably warm air -- well, low fifties felt warm to my ice-cold skin -- and clear skies reminded me of a night I had spent many years ago on a battlefield outside Galveston, Texas. There was such an immense span of clear sky there. Mountains in the distance, trees -- but openness. I thought I knew how Bella felt moving from the arid, expansive brown desert of Arizona to this wet, cloudy, green place. No stars, no sand, no dry wind. _It was like an alien planet_, as she had once described it to me. I remembered vaguely -- a human memory -- the darkness of that open Texan field: the smell of the smoky campfires, the sounds of harmonicas and banjos and rough male voices singing songs of home; the odd feeling of _assurance_ and confidencethat I knew most of the other soldiers did not share. But I had thought this was where I was meant to be. I had been sure of it. This is what I was meant to do. Even though I was not yet eighteen, I felt certain that I was _supposed_ to be here, to fight, to lead. I was convinced that _this_ was my destiny. I smiled inwardly, though not a twitch was betrayed in my marble features. Who could have known the anguished and gory trail I would have to travel before I _did_ find my true destiny? Before I found _her_...

I inclined my head slightly so I could shift my gaze to Alice's exquisite face; her smoldering eyes, amber now from our recent hunt; her flawless, silken skin, glowing pale in the moonlight; her thick, dark hair, barely ruffled by the light night breeze; her thoughtful, pink pout... She was lost in memories too, but hers were memories of things that had not yet come to pass -- visions of the possible future she had seen, some still vague and ghostly, some solidifying into probability. I wondered casually what she had seen. She did not seem concerned, just mildly interested. I moved my large hands slowly to rest them upon hers. She smiled without breaking her gaze. I looked back up at the stars.

Yes, over a hundred years ago I had stood in an open field under such stars. A field filled with men and horses and canvas and steel, gunpowder and biscuits on the breeze -- and felt sure I knew what life had in store for me. I was certain I would not fall in battle. Young as I was I had a quick mind for combat and tactics. At the time I was sure that was why I had been promoted so quickly over older, more experienced soldiers. I knew now it was most likely due to my "charisma -- with an edge" as Emmett had once put it. Even as a human I had an uncanny knack for persuading people to see things my way, for guiding them down the path I wanted them to follow. I believed I would continue to rise quickly through the ranks as long as the war held out. When the war ended I could easily gain a commission nearly anywhere in the country. I would move somewhere prosperous, maybe just a few day's train ride from my parent's home in Houston. I would find a respectable, pretty southern girl. We would marry and have lots of children; a boy to name Jackson -- after my father and General Stonewall Jackson (I had thought the dual tribute quite convenient; at the time it was rather en vogue to name one's children after the various war heroes. My own cousin's name was "Paralee" -- _para_ meaning "for" in Spanish, and "Lee" for General Lee...)-- some pretty little girls with flaxen hair, as mine had been when I was a child. I had thought a great deal about the future I believed I was destined for. And yet, the essential part of that equation, the woman I was going to tie the rest of my life to, never seemed all that important. Perhaps it was the era, the young age at which people married. Arranged marriages were still common. People didn't marry for _love_ as much as for _convenience_. I could still picture young Jackson and the flaxen-haired girls, but I couldn't envision a woman for me other than Alice. How arrogant I had been! To assume I knew anything about love and life and destiny... Reality had transpired much differently -- _much _ differently -- than I could ever have imagined then. I smiled outwardly now, a smooth grin that broke the sometimes harsh features of my battle-scarred face. For all the pain and suffering that I had endured, that I had inflicted, I could not ask for more from my life. Or, my existence, as life seemed only an accurate description when you would some day die. Barring any unforeseen tragedies -- and Alice _would_ see them -- my love and I would live together for centuries, for eternity. And that was why I could never complain. Perhaps I was not as fast as Edward or as strong as Emmett or as self-controlled as Carlisle. For our kind I was not beautiful like Rosalie, or sensitive and kind in the way Esme was. I had my weaknesses and my struggles and my imperfections ... but I also had Alice. Alice who knew what I was thinking without reading my mind. Alice who made me want to be strong and good and controlled. Alice who had _saved_ me, quite literally. When I was lost and wandering and without hope, Alice had come. My own angel. Come and saved me from my own despair. She had been a light in the darkest night, even then. A haloed seraph sent by some merciful god to take my hand and guide me through the pitch black to the brightening dawn.

I looked at her again as I remembered the day we had found each other. It was decades ago, but in my mind I saw her as clearly as I saw her now. She was there inside the artificially-lit diner, sliding off the high bar stool to walk straight toward me. No hesitation, no embarrassment, no fear. She was tiny and unbelievably graceful. She seemed to dance across the floor with her delicate hand outstretched. I knew she was one of my kind, but I could not understand what she was doing. Did she mean to attack? She was so small (and certainly no match for my years of fighting experience in any case), but I couldn't imagine why else she would be prancing toward me, without a trace of fear. Even as I calculated the maneuvers I could make in this limited space, taking in the placement of the chairs and booths and tables in my peripheral vision -- judging how quickly I could incapacitate her if necessary and make my escape -- I couldn't help noticing her fascinating _beauty_. She was unbelievably petite -- her head would come no higher than the top of my torso -- but she had this _assurance_ about her, as I once had as a soldier. She was utterly sure of herself, and, it seemed, of me. Her black hair had been long, then, falling down her back in slight waves. Her slender body was clothed in one of the form-fitting dresses of the time, expensive pale blue silk with oversized buttons running down the length of the bodice. Her dove-white hands seemed delicate, almost doll-like. She was perfectly formed; slender but with an awe-inspiring grace that only prima ballerina's -- or angels -- could possess.

All this I noticed in a fraction of a second. What caught my gaze -- and held it -- were her eyes. Her high cheekbones, pointed chin, pale creamy skin, and smiling lavender lips did not escape my attention, but her eyes... They were black, like mine, framed by thick dark lashes that were not a product of the current fads within the cosmetics industry. Her eyes were kind and gentle, deep. Unbelievably deep. It had been a long time since I had looked at my own reflection (these days I avoided that action with despondent resolve), but I was sure when I _had _looked back at myself my eyes had seemed soulless, shallow, empty. The eyes of a monster. Looking into her ebony eyes I couldn't believe the _depth_ I saw there. I felt as though I _could_ see her soul. I had been nearly certain that our kind was damned, that I had lost _my_ soul altogether and was fated to wander this hell for eternity; alone, despairing, loathing myself and everything around me... But this girl, this seraphic creature, she _had_ a soul. I would have bet my existence on it. She may be a vampire, but she was good and kind and compassionate. I knew it. Though my self-preservation instincts were to tense at her approach, preparing for combat as had been bored into me by nearly a century of blood and war, my other instincts told me to follow this tiny angel to the ends of the earth. I halted for the briefest fraction of a second, my two instincts battling with each other. I tried to reason. I knew first-hand that many of my kind had "talents" above and beyond the normal properties of our race. Perhaps this woman had some sort of bewitching allurement? But my own talents told me there was no deceit about her, no feeling of tension or anger or predation. She was honestly _happy_ to see me. She was somewhat impatient, so slightly nervous that it was almost imperceptible, but mostly overwhelmingly _happy._ There was a sense of satisfaction and eagerness about her, as though she had been _waiting_ for me here in this out-of-the-way place I had never been before. She smiled at me, and then she spoke. Her voice was the silver tinkling of an angel's choir. My breath caught in my throat.

"You've kept me waiting a long time," she said softly. None of the diner patrons heard her, but her voice was as clear as a bell to me. A silver, tinkling bell...

I didn't know how to respond. Without considering I answered as I had been brought up to answer a lady. I nodded my head in apology and said,

"I'm sorry ma'am."

She held out her tiny, doll-like hand. I took it without thinking. Suddenly, the battle that had raged inside me was calm. Not just the war between my instincts, wondering at her actions, but the wars over right and wrong, necessity and desire, animal instincts and the longing for a peaceable existence... All was quiet within me the instant I touched her. And in this sudden calm there was abruptly room for an emotion I had not felt in decades, perhaps not felt since I'd been reborn. Suddenly, I felt maybe there was something worth living for, another way to exist. Suddenly I felt maybe there was a way to avoid the guilt and misery and despair. Suddenly, I felt ... _hope_.

"I'm Alice," she said brightly, taking my arm, "I've been waiting. I knew you would come, though I had thought it would be sooner..." She looked up at me as she led me to one of the vinyl booths in a darkened corner of the diner. The waitress eyed us cautiously, almost rudely, from across the restaurant. Perhaps her instincts told her to stay away from us -- humans did have a strong sense of self-preservation, though they often ignored it -- but she did not bother to ask us to order. I sat down obediently and Alice slid in beside me, her arm still in mine. I was confused, but utterly fascinated.

"Do-" I stammered, not sure where to begin, "Do you know me?"

"Well, yes and no," she smiled again. "I've _seen_ you. I know some of your recent history. But we've never met, if that's what you mean." She placed her hand upon my arm, still smiling. She seemed perfectly comfortable, as if we were old friends -- or maybe something more...

"You've _seen_ me?" I asked, hinting for her to elaborate. I was curious to understand -- more to know about _her_ than to know about the situation. Truthfully I was a bit dazed by her.

"I have a gift, like yours," she said, looking me candidly in the eye. I saw again the immeasurable depths, saw the extraordinary soul within her... I wondered vaguely what she knew of my gift. It didn't overly concern me.

"I get flashes -- images -- of things that have not yet happened. I see what is coming -- "

"You see the future?" I asked, more interested now. This would certainly be a valuable gift to possess. How fascinating...

"Well, loosely speaking, yes. But the future isn't set in stone, as some believe. Everything depends on our actions, on our decisions," she waved her free hand as she explained. I was momentarily entranced by the movement. It was so incomprehensibly graceful. She continued,

"For example, if a man had decided to drive down one road, I would see where that road would take him, what would happen along his journey. But say he came to a fork in the road, and on a whim decided to choose another path. My vision would change, and I would then see his new journey, and where this new road would lead him."

I looked at her, deeply intrigued.

"So, the future can always change? Nothing is definite?" I wasn't sure about this. I had been so certain of fate and destiny. So certain of my own damnation...

"Well, everyone has aspects about them, about their lives and personalities and beginnings, that make some avenues _very_ likely. A criminal who lives in a cycle of death and greed and treachery is almost certain to die in a web of that same violence and greed and treachery. A beautiful, wealthy, educated girl is almost certain to grow up in a harbored, lush world. She would be most unlikely to, say, ever have to sleep on the streets or sell coal. But no, as far as I can tell, there is no such thing as _fate_." She looked thoughtful for a moment. Then she continued,

"But on the other hand, I don't know what you would call _us_. Certainly you never chose to meet me, and I never chose to have visions of you, and yet..." She gestured toward us with her free hand. The phrase _poetry in motion_ sprang to my mind.

"So, what, you think we were _destined_ to meet? Why would that be..." I trailed off, considering this. How could it be, after all the atrocities I had committed, that my destiny was to meet this angel? Was the mere fact that I regretted my past -- felt wretched, appalled, by my own existence -- penitence enough to be forgiven?

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. I was coming to that. I saw that you were wandering, miserable, guilty, wishing for another way... I think I can help."

I looked at her, almost helplessly. It was strange that she knew what I was searching for, but I didn't see how she could offer a solution. I didn't think there _was_ a solution. Wouldn't I have thought of one by now if one existed?

"There is a family up North," she continued, her eyes moving in the direction of the distant hills. "They are ... different. They don't want to harm people either. They've found a way -- _another_ way -- to survive. They will take us in with open arms. They're quite kind."

"Us?" I asked, surprised. Was she going to come with me? Could it be possible that she was _more_ than a savior, more than an angel to pull me out of the darkness and bring me into the light of hope? Did she mean for us to _stay_ together?

"Well, yes," she smiled at me, guessing my thoughts. Already it seemed as though it might be more than guessing. She seemed to _understand_ me in a way I thought only I could understand others. She seemed to know my mind, but she did not claim that as an ability. I hadn't ever known someone with more than one gift, but I supposed it was possible...

"I've been searching for the same thing you have. I want another way. I don't ... remember ... being human," she said slowly, almost sadly, "but I feel ... compassion for them. I don't want to be ... a _monster_... either." She spoke the word very softly, almost inaudibly, even to me. I could feel that this thought was difficult for her. I could feel guilt and sadness and regret. I stared at the faux-granite table top, my brow furrowed. I didn't like to feel her upset. I wanted very much to comfort her, to tell her I _knew_ she wasn't a monster. That idea was preposterous! Didn't she know she was an angel, sent to me from some unknown and glorious plane of forgiveness? Didn't she know no god anywhere could damn such a wonderful creature?

I slowly realized that the pain she felt had faded, and a new emotion was burning stronger and stronger. Was it ... hope? I looked up at her quickly, and was surprised to see she was staring at me, the same protectiveness and adoration on her face that I felt on my own.

"_You_ are what I've been searching for," she whispered, "Searching a long time. I was losing hope too. I was starting to think I might be better off if ... well, that would have been difficult anyhow. But then I saw _you_."

I looked at her incredulously. What could she have seen of my past that would give her _hope_? She shook her head, smiling. Again, I felt that she knew what I was thinking.

"You are good," she said simply, "You are strong and kind and loyal. You will love me for eternity, as I will you. I've seen it. I've seen what you are capable of -- " I cringed, assuming she meant the horrors in my black past. She shook her head again.

"No, I mean, what you _will_ be capable of. I told you, you are _good_. We can't help what was forced upon us. But now we can choose to live as we wish, in peace, in happiness. We can ... do what's right."

I looked at her again. I could hardly allow myself to believe the things she said, the things she saw in me. I couldn't see how anyone, a creature of heaven especially, could see any virtue in me. I felt almost foolish hoping the good was there, as she had said. I _wanted_ to be good. I suddenly wanted with all my heart to be worthy of her, this graceful being that had already given me so much. More than I had ever thought I'd have again. That hope she had inspired in me flared again, swelled, filling my chest. Maybe this all could be real. Maybe there was someone somewhere who could show me the moral and civilized path I had been searching for. Maybe it was even possible that this beautiful and unbelievably-compassionate creature could travel that path with me. However long she would walk, I would shadow. As long as she would let me follow at her side, I would. Suddenly the instinct I had felt to follow her to the ends of the earth seemed incredibly inadequate -- the end of the earth seemed a paltry distance. I would follow this angel to heaven or hell and back, from this life to any plane of existence. If I could help it, I would never leave her.

"We will go, then." I said. "Wherever you lead, I will follow."

She smiled, sliding fluidly out of the booth. She held her hands out to me and I took them both, their satin-smoothness sending currents of electricity and calm through my cold figure at the same time. My chest swelled with a jumble of emotions. Hope, gratuity, eagerness, happiness ... love. She turned toward the door as she put her arm in mine again. She danced along the dingy tile on weightless feet.

"By the way," she smiled at me sheepishly as I held the door open for her and we walked out into the now-twilit street. I looked back at her and all her tiny seraphic perfection. My Alice. My angel. I didn't even notice the rain.

"Yes?" She could ask anything of me -- even my life. I would give it gladly. She giggled a tinkling, bell laugh, then looked up at me.

"I forgot to ask. What is your name?"

* * * *

I chuckled softly at the memory.

"What?" she asked, finally breaking her stare and glancing down at me. In a lightning quick movement I sat up and scooped her into my arms, cradling her like a child as I sat cross-legged on the granite.

"I was just reminiscing about the day we met," I smiled.

"Oh," she returned my grin -- a radiant expression that stopped my breath.

"Whatever happened to that hair?" I asked, twining a short strand of her ebony mane around my fingers.

"Oh, I like to keep up with the times -- blend in," she laughed. A loud chortle escaped my lips too. Everyone knew Alice did not _blend_ _in_, especially in this tiny town. Rosalie's looks might make her more conspicuous, but Alice's penchant for run-way fashion could never permit anyone in Forks to pass her by without staring, inhuman beauty and grace aside. I eyed the clingy cream-colored satin slip dress she was dressed in now meaningfully.

"Well, there is something to be said for modern fashion."

She laughed again and sat up to face me, wrapping her legs around my hips, our eyes almost level. Her eyes hadn't changed in all this time. Although they were amber now instead of black, they still had that unfathomable depth to them. I could see straight to her soul.

"Wait 'til you see what I picked out for Carlisle and Esme's anniversary," she breathed mischievously. Her cool breath -- and her words -- sent an electric current through my body. "Very fashion-forward!"

I leaned down to brush her lips with my own.

"Succubus." I murmured, smiling, my lips still against hers. I could feel her smile back as she pressed her lips harder to mine. I grasped her tiny waist as she wrapped her arms tightly around my neck, pulling herself to me. The electric current was filling my body now, an anticipation only Alice could conjure. Her lips parted and I could taste her sweet breath. She raked her fingers through my hair.

One hand around her waist, I moved the other to grasp her short locks. Although Rosalie and Emmett were supposed to be the "wild" ones, Alice had a little tigress in her too. She loved it when I pulled her hair. An audible gasp escaped her lips and her mouth parted further. Her head leaned back, her eyes closed. I kissed her jaw, moving my lips down to her throat, her collarbone.

"Oh!" She straightened up stiffly and opened her eyes.

"What?" I asked disinterestedly. I kept my mouth on her silken skin.

"We should go back," she looked over my shoulder, back in the direction of the white house, "Something important is coming. Renesmee wants to tell us something..."

She looked back at me, and her eyes turned apologetic as she saw the dramaticized disappointment on my face.

"Sorry," she smiled, and softly kissed my lips, "We'll have to pick this up again later."

I sighed loudly.

Alice disentangled herself from my lap and rose, like a ballerina from a stage. I rose too, a bit unwillingly. Alice's vision could be so ... _inconvenient_.

"How about a wager, to make it up to you?" She eyed me impishly. I cocked my head in grudging interest.

"What did you have in mind?"

"We'll race back. Whoever wins gets to choose what I wear to bed tonight."

I grinned broadly. _Nothing_ sounded good. Then again, Alice's awe-inspiring collection of lingerie had its perks. Hmm...

"Ok, then!" She laughed, and darted off toward the house.

"Cheater!" I called after her, but then took off like a bullet. I could usually outrun her, and I guessed with the added motivation there would be no contest. Alice raced ahead of me, barely seeming to touch the ground, almost soaring over the forest floor like a sprite. But in the end, she was no match for my power and strength -- especially with a little added incentive. I catapulted over the stream to the house a full two seconds before she sprang lightly over it.

"I won!" I smiled triumphantly, my arms folded across my chest. "Now let's see..."

She chuckled, not seeming to mind losing; a lilting musical sound that seemed like angels singing. She put her arm through mine and turned us toward the house.

"Patience, Jazz, patience. Let's see what's going on first."

I pretended to huff in disappointment, but strode into the house alongside her. Maybe I could find some other new purchases stashed away in that labyrinthine closet of ours. The thought gave me some fortitude to wait out whatever news was coming. I wondered idly whether Renesmee had finally realized how she felt about Jacob. Maybe Jacob had given her a little push, a little hint about the direction their relationship was heading. _That_ might be almost _worth_ postponing Alice's fashion show! To see the look on Edward's face if Renesmee and Jacob announced they were _together_...

I was still smiling at the thought when we entered the kitchen. Bella was there making fried chicken and mashed potatoes -- I assumed for Jacob or Seth, though I couldn't smell either one. She looked up as we walked in.

"What are you grinning about?" She asked me, smiling herself. She held the frying pan with one hand and, with a deft flick of her wrist, caused the chicken to rise in the air like a pancake and flip over, ready to crisp the other side. Her eyes didn't move from mine.

"Oh, nothing," I continued to grin, "Alice just lost a rather enticing bet..."

Alice gave me a mockingly exasperated look.

"I let you win," she sniffed.

From the familiar gleam in my eye, Bella knew better than to press for further information.

"Ah," was all she said.

"So where is everybody? I was under the impression there was an important announcement to be made." I walked over to the large dining room table and sat down in one of the high-backed chairs. This was mostly out of habit -- just as with breathing, we didn't really need to rest -- standing was just as comfortable as sitting. I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. Bella used to tell me, back in her human days, that I looked like a male model posing for a catalogue for men's apparel when I sat like this -- casually leaning, my feet apart, my head tilted slightly to one side in anticipation. I supposed we all looked like models to human eyes. Another part of the predatory lure...

Bella looked confused. "Well, Jacob's supposed to be back from La Push soon with Renesmee," she nodded toward the chicken, "but I didn't think there was anything unusual about that..." she trailed off, a slight frown on her face, her brow puckering just as it had when she was human. I wondered if she was thinking what I had been thinking. She wasn't feeling any strong emotions -- not sadness or anger or happiness. She just seemed thoughtful.

"Well, maybe I was a little early," Alice's eyes darted to mine apologetically. "But they'll all be here soon."

She danced over to Bella and peered over her shoulder at the contents of the pan. She wrinkled her nose. It was like a kitten being offered a new brand of cat food. She was adorable. "Do you need any help?"

"Oh, I think I'm about done. It's a good thing I was human _once_ so I at least know how these things should look. But I have to say, it is rather difficult cooking when it all tastes and smells terrible." Bella prodded a piece of chicken with her finger -- no need to use a fork; she wasn't going to get burned.

Alice nodded in agreement. Not that she really ever tried to cook. There wasn't really any point. The only people she cared for that still ate food were Jacob, Seth, and Charlie. Bella usually cooked for Jacob and Seth when they were over, though on occasion Renesmee would don an apron. Renesmee tried cooking every so often -- it seemed to me more out of curiosity than desire. She was, according to the werewolves, a wonderful cook (which didn't surprise me, as Renesmee was wonderful at everything she tried), but she seemed to grow bored with the occupation quickly and would move on to something else. Besides, I knew she preferred to hunt with Jacob, rather than watching him eat human food.

As for Charlie, there was no doubt Sue's cooking had us all beat, so he was usually set. I remembered fleetingly the huge reception feast -- none of which any of us Cullens could eat -- she and Leah had prepared for her wedding to Charlie three years ago. The human and werewolf guests, at least, seemed to find it delicious. Charlie had gone back for fourths.

Alice sashayed to the now sporadically-used cupboards and pulled out a china plate. With a twirl that really belonged on a stage she slid open a drawer and pulled out a silver fork and knife with her other hand. She set them lithely on the counter next to Bella.

"Hmm," she speculated, looking at the silverware, "I wonder where the silver and werewolf legends came from? Maybe there's some truth to it..."

She smiled mischievously at Bella. "Let's let Rosalie test it out."

Bella and I laughed.

"Oh, I don't think so," Bella snickered, lifting three pieces of fried chicken onto the plate with her bare hand, "Renesmee would never forgive you if you took her Jacob away, even if it was in the name of science."

"Jacob's not a _real_ werewolf, anyway," I reminded Alice, smirking, "and you know if it worked, Caius would know by now." I didn't miss that Bella involuntarily flinched at the name.

I had heard the stories about Caius, of the Volturi, and his hatred for werewolves before. He had hunted the true creatures nearly into extinction. As far as I knew, the only surviving beasts were keeping to themselves in remote parts of Europe. I doubted we'd ever run into any to test the silver theory for ourselves.

"What's up?" Emmett asked as he tramped into the kitchen. He pulled up a chair beside me and turned it so that he straddled it with his chin and broad arms leaning on the back.

"Apparently there's going to be some big announcement," I said, feeling for Bella's reaction. Her brow furrowed again, but there were still no strong emotions.

"Huh," Emmett said nonchalantly. He didn't seem overly-interested. He usually figured things would be explained in their own time -- no need to get worked up about them.

Esme and Carlisle, hearing our voices, walked into the kitchen arm in arm. The advent of their ninetieth anniversary seemed to make them more in love than ever. They were often to be found these days staring blissfully into each other's eyes, lost in their own world. It was sweet, but somewhat out of character. Carlisle was usually very perceptive, very concerned with the happiness and well-being of those around him. The past few weeks he hadn't seemed to notice much but Esme. _Ah, well_, I thought, _no one can be a saint _all_ the time_. The thought gave me a small amount of comfort, for which I immediately felt guilty. Just because _I_ struggled with being good shouldn't mean I wanted anyone else to. But it was nice to know even Carlisle wasn't always perfect.

Rosalie and Edward entered the living room then, Rosalie wiping the grease from her perfect hands onto a dishrag. I could see them from my seat in the dining room. Edward was spotless as usual, though they had obvious come from working on the cars. They were engrossed in a discussion of the pros and cons of two competing German-engineered engines. Rosalie wanted to keep the current engine in the new BMW Z4 Roadster she'd bought for "day trips" with Emmett and just "improve" upon it. Rosalie and her convertibles, I thought in resignation. They were so impractical for someone who wasn't supposed to be exposed in the sun. Edward thought she should replace it with the new Astin Martin V-8 Vantage engine that was apparently all the rage in Europe. I shook my head. I still didn't get it.

"What's going on?" Rosalie asked as she noticed us all assembled in the dining room.

"Renesmee has something to tell us," Edward said, reading Alice's thoughts. He, at least, felt some anxiety.

"Bella?" he asked, walking toward her.

"Don't ask me," she set the plate of chicken and mashed potatoes at Jacob's designated spot at the table. Alice placed the silverware upon a cloth napkin next to it.

"Well, we're about to find out," Emmett wrinkled his nose. We could all smell Jacob approaching. The much sweeter, floral scent of Renesmee was mingled with the sickly _dog_ smell. Ech. We should make Jacob take a bath.

"Or get him some cologne," Edward muttered. Bella elbowed him.

We all looked in expectation at the front door as Jacob opened it and Renesmee, laughing and smiling so broadly it was hard to keep from mirroring her, glided through. None of us missed that her left hand was inconspicuously hidden behind her back. Could they really have made that leap in one afternoon? Immediately I could feel a jumble of emotions in the room. Happiness and congratulations from Carlisle and Esme; a mixture of these, anxiety, and slight sadness from Bella; a mocking sentiment of relief from Emmett (I could practically hear him thinking, _It's about time!_); happiness but also slight disappointment from Rosalie; almost overwhelming elation tinged by anxiety from Alice ... and I knew why she was anxious. The strongest -- almost overpowering -- feeling emanating from the dining room was fury. This, of course, was from Edward. I looked at him, warily. With great effort he was restraining himself, attempting to compose his face into one of polite interest. He was failing utterly.

Renesmee and Jacob looked up in surprise at the unexpected gathering of the entire family. Renesmee seemed to realize this was a tricky moment. Jacob, however, could not contain his euphoria. He beamed so broadly I thought his face might crack.

"Well," Renesmee said, walking smoothly to the dining room, "I guess you all know we have something to tell you." She shot a fleeting glare at Alice, who looked at the floor guiltily. I could hear the low growl building in Edward's throat.

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. We were a room of waxworks. No one even breathed.

"I'm engaged!" Renesmee shouted, holding up her left hand for everyone to see. Despite her anxiety about our reactions, she was unable to contain her excitement. Her smile -- so beautiful it was mesmerizing on a normal day -- was almost blinding in its radiance.

"Oh, darling!" Esme cried, and sprang forward to embrace her.

"No!"

We all turned to stare at Edward. His fists were clenched and he was rigid with rage. _Definitely better than a fashion show_, I thought to myself. I did feel a little worried, though. Just yesterday Edward had blown up about Jacob's irresponsibility in giving Renesmee a trifling human gift. I cringed at the thought of what his anger would be now, when Jacob was trying to take his only daughter away from him and, aside from that, make her a woman. None of us liked to think of Renesmee on a honeymoon.

"No," he growled again.

"Dad -- " Renesmee started. Edward cut her off.

"You are _not_ getting married. You're only a child!"

"Dad, I'm fully grown. I know I haven't been around that long, but, technically I'm an adult now -- "

Edward shook his head, his eyes shut tightly trying to control himself. Bella reached to put her hand on his shoulder but hesitated. No one needed my gift to be able to tell that Edward was about to explode at any moment.

"Look," Renesmee said defiantly. We all knew that set to her jaw, that determined look in her eyes. It was just like her father's. It had been adorable when she was a child. Right now, though, it could only mean trouble, "I am _not_ a child anymore. And you must have known this was coming, sooner or later. We were practically betrothed at birth."

Edward glared at her furiously. He and Bella had never entirely gotten over the ... _awkwardness_ of Jacob imprinting on their baby. Though his intentions were beyond reproach, we all knew that _someday_ he and Renesmee would be romantically involved. I had to admit, it was always a little creepy.

"_Technically_," Edward breathed through clenched teeth, "you're only _six_." He glared fiercely at Jacob now, "What is _wrong_ with you!"

I heard Emmett chuckle. Bella shot him an angry glance. He quickly changed his expression to one of innocence. Jacob looked troubled. Again I wondered if he had really not considered Edward's reaction, or if the idea that Renesmee would be happy merely made that thought unimportant. It would be important when we had to hold Edward down to keep him from tearing Jacob limb from limb...

Jacob opened his mouth to speak, but Renesmee put her velvety hand upon his cheek. She used her gift much less frequently now than she had as a child, deciding speaking aloud was more efficient -- though often less specific and expressive -- than "showing" people what she wanted. Still, it certainly had its uses. Jacob relaxed immediately and watched Renesmee reverently.

"Dad," Renesmee said, deciding to try another approach. Her voice was calm and soothing, "Try to think about this rationally. What is it, exactly, that you object to?"

"Where do I start?" Edward growled. He shook his head again. "You _are_ young, even if you are physically grown up. There's so much left for you to do, to see, to experience..."

Behind him Bella looked almost annoyed. Hadn't she given Edward a dozen excuses why _she_ didn't want to get married so young, he always insisting there was no reason to wait?

"I can still see and experience everything. I'll just do it with Jacob. We probably would have done it together anyway." Renesmee reasoned.

"What about college?" Edward asked her, looking at Jacob pointedly. For months now Edward had been trying to convince his daughter to attend college. It was more for the experience than for the actual education. Renesmee already knew almost everything, and she could pick up the things she didn't know in about two seconds. But there was something to be said for the normal college experience, I thought. I, myself, had attended three universities throughout the years, and each campus, each collegiate body, each sporting event, each lecture was different, new. It was an experience worth having. Jacob, though he would have never stopped Renesmee from doing what she wanted, was adamantly opposed to going away to college. I was sure if she had wanted to go, he'd follow, but he had no desire to leave La Push of his own accord. Billy wasn't getting any younger, Jacob's pack was here, _we_ were here. Forks was a safe haven for him, not only because he had never left this sheltered city, but because here he could be himself. There were people who knew all his secrets and he didn't have to pretend and try to fit in -- at least not very often. If he went away somewhere, all that would change.

"I thought we decided a college education would be a valuable thing for you," Edward said smugly. College was a priority for him, and since Jacob had always fervently refused to go, his argument seemed to be won. Jacob finally looked him in the eye, apparently pleased that he had brought this point up.

"Well, we talked about that," he said, evidently pleased with himself, "We _will_ go to college. Both of us. We'll get married this summer and then we'll get off-campus housing for married couples wherever we get into..."

He hesitated. "Getting in" somewhere was going to be harder than he thought. Renesmee had no school records, no GPA, no _birth certificate_. Hell, the first questions on a college application were "Name" and "Social Security Number." Edward had waved this off during their previous discussions, stating that it would be no problem for J Jenks, our go-to forger, to create the needed documents just as he had on many previous occasions for the rest of us. Even if he did produce them in time for the coming semester, though, there was another matter that would complicate Jacob and Renesmee attending school together: Jacob had never graduated high school. And, thanks to his whole turning-into-a-werewolf thing his sophomore year, his GPA was none too grand anyhow. I knew it was only a matter of dollar amounts to buy Jacob's way into a college or forge some decent transcripts, but if Edward refused to help -- which seemed likely -- Jacob would never have the kind of money he would need. I wondered briefly if Alice and I could figure out some way to sneak him the cash. Edward glared at me and then turned back to Jacob.

"_You_ are going to go to college?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone, "I thought you didn't want to go --"

I could see him biting back the unkind words, _And how the hell would you get in?_

"Well, I changed my mind. College is a good idea, and Seth said he'll keep an eye on Billy for me--"

"Seth is in on this too?" Edward growled, glaring in the direction of Charlie's house.

"Well, yeah, I've been thinking about this for a while. Renesmee_ is_ an adult now, and the only good reason you could have for us not getting married is her education, so--"

"I could think of a few more," Edward snarled under his breath. Bella put her hand on his arm.

"So anyway, we've got it all worked out. We'll go somewhere with plenty of space and wildlife for hunting, we'll live together, we'll go to school, and when we've graduated we'll decide where to go from there..." His words trailed off as he saw the downcast faces -- not only Edward's, but all of ours -- at the idea of Renesmee going away from us, returning only who-knew-when. No one liked the idea of losing our baby. She may not be my daughter, but she was the closest thing I'd ever have. She was family. She was my child, too, in a way. I didn't like the thought of only seeing her a few times a year any more than Edward did.

"So, you'd ... be ... leaving, then?" Bella asked slowly, sadly. She seemed glumly resolved to the decision they'd made.

"Over my dead body --" Edward's snarl came out low and threatening.

"We'll all go."

Everyone turned, astonished, to stare at Alice. She was smiling excitedly.

"What?" Emmett asked blankly, echoing all our thoughts.

"We'll _all_ go to college. Together. Oh, come on," she sighed, looking at Edward, "We've been in Forks much longer than we really should have been, anyhow. Carlisle's supposed to be _thirty-nine_ now --" she snorted, looking at the gloriously golden-haired Carlisle. In reality he had stopped aging when he was twenty-three. Thirty-nine was a joke. Rumors circulated around the hospital that Carlisle and Esme had a great plastic surgeon on retainer. Carlisle had even taken to trying to dye his hair and using make up to make himself appear to be aging. It was a pretty futile effort. It would take a lot of make up to make Carlisle appear to be less than godly to the humans... "-- and the rest of us have to stay out of town as much as possible to avoid giving ourselves away. We should have moved on years ago."

Another jumble of emotions. Jacob seemed elated again, whether because he assumed everyone would follow Alice's advice, or because he was just happy to have someone on his side, I wasn't sure. Rosalie and Emmett seemed excited, anticipating a change of scene and, for Rosalie I was sure, a new adoring class of boys to admire her. Carlisle and Esme just seemed glad things might work out. Bella felt a mixture of excitement, happiness, sadness, anxiety ... almost every feeling you _could_ feel. Even Edward's emotions shifted from pure anger to a combination of anger, frustration, and resignation. There went his best, brightest argument; the only one that really held any logical sway.

"Maybe I can finish that Philosophy degree," I tried to sound cheery to break the tension.

"No," Edward repeated obstinately. Alice was about to speak when Bella cut in.

"Edward, stop being ridiculous!"

We all stared at her in amazement. Bella had a temper of her own, but she usually knew better than to row with Edward when he was like this, as we all did. On the other hand, though, she was the only one he would ever listen to.

"You _knew_ this day would come eventually," she seemed to struggle over the thought herself, "We always knew Renesmee and Jacob would end up together. It _is_ a little sooner that I thought, but we should be happy for them. And as long as they agree to go to college, I don't see why they shouldn't get married whenever they wish. Why postpone the inevitable? And as for being too young!" she snorted. We all knew what she was thinking.

"Biologically, emotionally, mentally, she's at least twenty," again, these words seemed difficult for her, but she continued quickly, "that's older than I was when you insisted _we_ get married. _That_ didn't turn out so badly."

She tried to smile, but Edward's anger was almost palpable. I could tell he had hoped Bella would be on his side. He felt a little betrayed.

"You know," she said softly, looking into his eyes, "I never got to go to college."

I couldn't help smiling. I hoped Emmett would contain his chortle and not ruin things. If there was one thing Edward could never refuse, it was a chance to give Bella something she wanted.

Edward glared at her, turned to look at his daughter and his future son-in-law, and turned back to his wife again, his expression grudgingly beginning to soften.

"You want to go?"

"Yes. And it would solve all the problems. No more worrying about giving ourselves away, no worrying about Renesmee off somewhere on her own -- we could all stay together."

"What about Charlie?" he asked, with little hope.

"He has Sue now. He'll be fine. And we'll come back to visit him." Bella smiled. She knew she had won; the worst was over.

"All right!" Emmett clapped his hands together loudly and stood up. "So where're we gonna go? Not Harvard, again -- those guys are so boring! They didn't do anything but study!"

I grinned broadly. Emmett and college -- if I hadn't seen it many times with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it.

"Someplace with a good baseball team," Rosalie said, "I'm sick of football. And besides, men are so much more attractive in baseball uniforms."

With a playful growl of faux jealousy Emmett swooped over and scooped Rosalie off the ground, slinging her over his shoulder.

"Baseball, huh? I think I can rustle up a uniform for you..."

And with an anticipatory laugh from each of them that we all knew -- and cringed at -- Emmett swept Rosalie out of the room and up the stairs.

"Ick," Jacob said, grimacing. He looked down at his future wife, "Promise me we'll never be like--" He stopped short as he caught the glare from all six pairs of eyes. No, no one wanted to think about Renesmee on a honeymoon.


	4. Chapter 4

4. SURRENDER

NOT WILLING TO CONCEDE GRACEFULLY, EDWARD STALKED OUT OF THE ROOM AND

out the front door, slamming it behind him hard enough to make the glass shake in its frame. Bella looked after him, hesitating.

Renesmee looked from the quivering door to the floor, slowly eyeing her mother in her peripheral vision. I could feel sadness and guilt seeping into her happiness. Now that the argument was won, the defiance was draining from her like water from a sieve, quickly replaced by remorse. I could feel Alice nearly bubbling over with suppressed curiosity, but she had sense enough merely to bounce with quiet excitement in the corner of the dining room. She kept her mouth shut, at any rate.

"Maybe I should --" Bella began, taking a hesitant step for the door.

"No, I'll go," Renesmee said softly, placing a firm hand on her mother's arm. Bella nodded and Renesmee tilted her chin in contrived self assurance and strode toward the door. Jacob made as if to follow her, but I grabbed his shoulder.

"Let her go. Give them a minute."

Jacob looked after Ness and the closing front door in agitation, but then sighed loudly and fell into in his usual seat at the table with a huff of resignation. His presence would do nothing to soothe the situation now. Edward and Renesmee needed to work this out for themselves.

This quick assumption was instantly called into question as the angry shouts from Edward and Ness hit the walls of the house. Everyone tensed, glancing out back windows or at the muted television, everyone uncomfortable but knowing it was not our place to intervene. Esme looked unhappy, Carlisle distressed. Bella's skin was even whiter than usual as she wrung the dishtowel in her hands with immense force -- enough to make her bleed had she been human. Jacob fidgeted in his seat, completely unaware of the chicken and mashed potatoes before him. He made as if to rise a half dozen times, then sat down again, unable to decide what he should do. I knew it was nearly maddening for him to leave Renesmee to any danger -- physical or emotional -- without doing everything in his power to protect her. Only the constant glares from me reminding him to stay out of it kept him from dashing through the door full tilt and interrupting.

"How could you possibly know that?" Edward was shouting, "You have no experience to base this on! For God's sake, Renesmee, you haven't known one other man you're not related to -- that's _not_ a mongrel, that is -- in your entire life! That hardly qualifies as an informed decision!"

Jacob cringed. He knew Edward was right. I started to feel his self-doubt, wondering, I was sure, whether his actions were actually what was best for Renesmee. I laid a hand on his russet arm in assurance. Experience or no, Jacob was who Renesmee wanted. I doubted playing "Bachelorette" with every male on the planet would change that.

"Dad, you're not being fair -- you don't understand --"

"What don't I understand?" Edward snapped, "You are a six-year-old _child_ who's never been out of Washington! You're trying to tell me you are mature and worldly enough to make a decision that will affect the next five hundred years of your life?"

"That's hardly fair -- I'm not _really_ six--"

"Ok, for argument's sake let's say that you're not. We'll go with your physical age. How old do you think you are now? Nineteen? Twenty? Teenagers are historically renowned for making foolish decisions, clouded by passion and hormones--"

Now it was Ness' turn to be furious. Her patient, pleading tone abruptly changed to a livid shout.

"Passion. And. Hormones!" she nearly screamed, "Is _that_ what you think of me? I'm some hormone-driven _human_ --" I had never heard her pronounce the word with such utter disdain before, like it was the blackest of insults, "-- some dumb, teenaged, ingènue with bubblegum and a Jonas Brothers poster, losing all reason and intelligence when the first boy shows any interest in me? Is your opinion of me really so low? And when I think what Mom and I have put up with with you for the past six years -- all the demands, all the ridiculous orders -- and then you call _me_ immature --"

"Jasper, maybe you'd better--" Alice started, but I was already at the door. This was getting ugly, fast. Jacob's interference would only make matters worse, but I could calm this battle down before any irreparable damage was done with a snap of my fingers. Well, an ease of calm, that is.

I left the door open and stepped out onto the porch, easily locating the two enraged figures in the sea of ferns, both looking like flaming angels of destruction, each alight with the glow of battle and self-righteousness. I took a deep breath. Neither of them was going to be happy about this later. Edward probably wouldn't speak to me for weeks. I built the calmness up in my chest, preparing to transmit it through the atmosphere to the two burning figures before me.

"Dad, look," Renesmee began. I hesitated at the sudden calmness within her. Not my doing, not yet. Edward shook his head, face distorted into a mask of rage, preparing to roar again.

"Let me show you," Renesmee insisted, and before Edward could open his mouth she pressed her hand to his cheek.

Immediately I felt a rush of emotions from Edward, a furiously-paced mingling of feelings that almost made me dizzy. I knew what this was like. Renesmee had showed all of us her thoughts and visions before, putting her ideas into our heads with her touch. It was a strange feeling, almost like losing your own will. From others' descriptions, it was much the way everyone felt when I forced emotions upon them. You couldn't feel the way you wanted to feel, you couldn't react the way you wanted to react. You could only feel what _I_ wanted you to feel. I supposed it was a heady power, but I had learned long ago not to abuse my gift -- it made life too surreal. I knew people's reactions weren't their own. I had earned true love here, both romantic and familial. Why on earth would I want to substitute that with fabricated emotions?

This loss of will was how I had often felt with Renesmee. You couldn't see things the way you wanted to perceive them when she was inputting her thoughts into you brain, you only saw and felt them as _she_ wanted you to. I had never had cause to be irritated by this reaction before, but I saw now just how infuriating it could be. Edward was hell bent on remaining staunchly opposed to Jacob and Renesmee's union, at least at this point in her life. It must be very inconvenient indeed to be forced to look at this from Renesmee's perspective.

Edward remained tense and scowling for a full three minutes. I could only imagine what Renesmee was showing him, and I tried to align the possible images with Edward's emotional reactions. Somewhere in my head it occurred to me that maybe I should go back inside, as I was boorishly close to eavesdropping now, but I was riveted. Partly because I was sure the fight could go either way once Ness had finished -- Edward could easily decide to revert to his stubborn denial once his thoughts were his own again -- and I needed to be here in case things got out of hand again. But partly I was intensely curious and concerned as to how it would all turn out. I wanted this to work out. It _needed_ to work out, for all of us. The tumult of emotions swirled in my chest, in my head, in my stomach.

Innocent joy. Maybe one of Renesmee's many games with Jacob as a child; maybe the time she had constructed a saddle out of Esme's couch cushion and tied it upon Jacob's broad back, climbing halfway up a young spruce to be able to mount her "steed" independently, waving the priceless bronze Etruscan sword she had pilfered from Carlisle's collection as she bounded off to war.

Complete safety. Perhaps one of the nights she had lain under Forks' seldom-seen stars in the baseball field curled up against Jacob's warm fur, his slow, rhythmic breathing and steady heartbeat completely reassuring, knowing that nothing could hurt her; Jacob would never let it. Mischievous excitement. The time she and Jacob had "redecorated" Bella and Edward's cottage for Halloween, complete with a dozen dexterously carved Jack-o-lanterns, a bubbling witch's cauldron with real eye of newt and toe of frog, wool of bat and -- I wondered at Jacob's scruples here -- tongue of dog, and, the final prank, an authentic human skeleton "borrowed" from the Quilieute High School biology department, sitting nonchalantly in Edward's chair, wearing Alice's favorite fedora and Rosalie's prize diamond cross pendant as he held Bella's weathered _Romeo and Juliet_ in his bony hands?

Then a slight nervousness tinged with confusion and something I couldn't place. I felt an odd sensation in the pit of my stomach as the borrowed emotion reached me. I inexplicably linked the feeling with Alice. It took me a moment to realize that it was the beginnings of love or longing. That odd nervous-but-excited sensation one got when around a person they might be interested in. I had no idea what memory went with this emotion. A stray touch or glance, perhaps? A slight moment in time when Renesmee had the hint that Jacob was more than just a friend and protector to her? I wondered how old she had been when that emotion struck her. Had she known what it was? What it might mean?

The nervousness was stronger now, swirling with excitement and pleasure. Was this perhaps the motorcycle ride today? Jacob's hand upon Renesmee's as he instructed her how to use the gears and throttle? Chocolate eyes meeting deep hazel as glances were exchanged? A jabbing elbow or teasing jibe, once purely joking, now flirtation? I felt like the thoughts _were_ in my head, or at least that my will was not my own. I didn't particularly want to think of Renesmee and Jacob's tender moments, flirting and touching and staring into each other's eyes, and yet, I couldn't quite pull my thoughts away. I saw it as clearly as if I were sitting on the road beside them.

Pure joy, overwhelming happiness and excitement and ... love. I knew what this must be. Jacob's proposal. Renesmee realizing that this was the man she wanted, this was the future she wanted. She loved Jacob. Not just as the best friend she had known since birth. Not just as the protector that would die before letting any harm befall her. Not just as the prankster and partner in crime and loyal companion that adhered to her every whim. She loved him, as Jacob, as a man. She wanted to be with him. Forever. She wanted to share his life, his name, his joys and sorrows. She wanted to touch and kiss him. She wanted every part of him, forever. And what was more, she wanted to belong to him, as he had always belonged to her. She wanted to be _his_, as she would never be another's. She wanted to be one, now -- now and forever. Jacob and Renesmee. Renesmee and Jacob. Bound by love, by destiny, by undying vows. She wanted it so stridently and so completely that it came as no surprise when Edward's shoulders finally slumped, his muscles finally relaxed, and his own emotions -- pressed behind the wall of Renesmee's -- became lighter. Not joyous, not yet. More ... resigned. Edward had finally surrendered.

"All right," he said at last, looking his daughter in the eye with a stare so intense I wondered that Renesmee didn't look away, "All right. I -- I understand," he hesitated, took a deep breath, then continued, "I give you my blessing."

"Thank you, Daddy," Renesmee whispered, wrapping her arms around her father's neck. With a sigh of defeat Edward returned her embrace, kissing the top of Renesmee's head. I could feel a great loss swelling in him, a heavyhearted self-sacrifice. He was letting her go. He would not force her into anything foolish, like an elopement. He would not cause her distress or anxiety when he could prevent it. He was giving her up. Giving her away. I swallowed the lump in my throat and turned to go back into the house. I heard the whispered words from father to daughter as the door swung shut, muffled by Renesmee's bronze curls.

"I love you. Forever. More than my own life."

* * * *

"So tell us all about it!" Alice squealed, dancing forward and taking Renesmee by the hands. She led her over to a chair at the table and pressed her into it. Jacob was grinning broadly, finally intent on the reheated plate of fried chicken Bella had prepared for him, ready to dig in. Renesmee's smile was blinding.

Carlisle, Esme, Bella, Alice, and I were gathered around the dining room table. Now that the danger of a father-daughter blood feud was behind us, curiosity and excitement were the overwhelming emotions. I wondered vaguely what Edward had thought of the proposal. Having already seen it through Renesmee's eyes, and, I was sure, not quite ready to face everyone with the composure that was his trademark, Edward had walked nobly off into the forest, chin high, back straight, after he and Ness had come to their understanding. Rosalie and Emmett were still upstairs -- I wondered how long it would be until they surfaced. They had been known to remain locked in their room for days at a time.

"What do you want to know?" Renesmee asked coyly. Alice nearly stamped with impatience.

"_Everything!_" she cried, "I want to know every single minute detail! It's terrible not being able to see you two -- I've missed it all!"

Renesmee smiled and patted her aunt reassuringly on the hand.

"Calm down, Aunt Alice. I'll tell you everything I remember -- some of it's kind of a blur. Jake, you can fill in the holes, okay?"

Jacob nodded, stuffing a great forkful of potato into his mouth. Renesmee grinned fondly.

"So, you know Jacob took me down to La Push to test drive my motorcycle," she began enthusiastically, leaning forward with excitement. Bella and Alice nodded as Carlisle and Esme gathered closer. "It's such a great gift! You and Auntie Rose really did a great job," she smiled at Jacob who returned the expression, beaming with self-satisfaction.

"Well, we rode around for a while -- down the same dirt roads you learned to ride on, Mom -- and it was so much fun! I see why you like the Ducati, Uncle Jasper. They're just so _fast_! It was great!

"So as the sun was setting we stopped by the cliffs --" Bella cringed slightly. These were the same cliffs she had leapt off of years ago, setting the events in motion that led Edward to ask the Volturi to end his life. It was not something she was proud of, and even now the thought of the dark cloaks, the sinister calm, the righteous cruelty of the Volturi caused her fear. I concentrated decidedly on Renesmee and her story.

"--and we were just watching the ocean for a while. The waves, the clouds, the sun. It really was beautiful," she said dreamily, staring at a spot above our heads. Alice's impatient toe-tapping broke her reverie and she giggled, aquiescing.

"So as twilight was coming Jacob said we should be getting back before Dad had a heart attack. I wanted to tell Auntie Rose how much I loved the gift, too, so I agreed and we trekked back to the road. I climbed on my bike and shoved down on the kick start, but nothing happened."

Jacob smirked, still focused on his food.

"I tried it again and again. I hadn't had any troubles starting it before, so I couldn't understand what I was doing wrong," she smiled at the memory. "Finally Jacob told me to stay still and he'd take a look at it. He bent down and he was examining the kick start. And then -- " she broke off, looking adoringly at her new fiancée. It was a look I had never seen on her face before. She had always loved Jacob, always adored him, but not like this. She had always esteemed him in the way a child adores a devoted pet -- Jacob was _hers_. This new look made me feel a strange mixture of happiness and discomfort. I wasn't sure how I felt about this whole situation. It would take some time to get used to the idea, even if I had already had six years. _I_ hadn't seen the visions colored by Renesmee's emotions, after all.

"--he was already down on one knee, and I hadn't even noticed," she whispered, "I had no idea. But he, he suddenly held up a ring -- the most beautiful ring," she held out her perfect hand, admiring her finger. The she smiled again, sounding as if she might cry, "and he said..."

"I said, 'Renesmee Carlie Cullen, would you make me the most unbelievably lucky guy in the world and do me the honor of being my wife?' " Jacob continued. He was smiling that huge grin again, almost too big for his face to contain. He chuckled, "She was speechless. I don't think she was expecting _that_."

Ness rose and seated herself in Jacob's lap, throwing her arms around his neck. She had done this ever since she was a child, but there was a new weight to the action now. It made me a little uncomfortable.

"I was completely shocked," she admitted, laughing, "I suppose I always knew we'd end up together someday, but I guess I didn't really think about it. I stood there with my mouth open for a good five minutes."

"At least," Jacob teased, wrapping his long arms around her waist, "I was starting to think you'd gone into shock. I was wondering if I should call Carlisle."

Renesmee smacked him playfully upside the head. "Well, it's not as if we'd _talked_ about it or anything. I just didn't know what to say. I -- I hadn't really _realized_ I thought of you that way. It took me some time to get there," she looked down at Jacob apologetically. He seemed unruffled.

"I was beginning to think maybe I should have waited another year, given her some time to get used to the idea. I started muttering something about it being too soon and to forget I'd said anything --"

"And that snapped me out of it. Even though I hadn't been looking for it, the thought of him rescinding the offer was unbearable. Who knows when he'll change his mind?"

We all rolled our eyes at that, Jacob included. Everyone knew there was absolutely no chance of Jacob willingly being parted from Renesmee. The thought of him with anyone else was ludicrous. Why, then, was I having so much trouble accepting Renesmee with him?

"Yeah, she perked right up then," Jacob snorted, touching Renesmee's rose cheek, "I couldn't get her to shut up! She was screaming, 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' at the top of her lungs. I thought we'd have half the reservation up there to see what was going on -- actually I'm surprised you guys didn't hear her up here."

Ness grinned, unashamed, "All of a sudden I realized it was everything I'd ever wanted, you were offering me my dream. What the hell was I thinking giving you the chance to make me wait another year? I figured I'd better strike while the iron was hot."

We all smirked again, Jacob more brightly than anyone else. His smirk transformed into a brilliant, beaming grin as he looked into Renesmee's chocolate eyes. They stared at one another for a long moment, the rest of us looking away uncomfortably.

"So, you're getting married!" Alice finally interrupted, unable to contain her excitement, "Oh, you _have_ to let me plan the wedding! I did your mother's, you know, and it was beautiful, wasn't it Bella? And you're going to have a June wedding -- oh, a June bride! So romantic! It's too bad Forks is so gloomy in the summer -- I don't suppose you'd consider a destination wedding? Somewhere tropical, maybe?"

"Aunt Alice, I think we want to have it here, somewhere Grandpa and Billy can go. We were thinking La Push, maybe..."

"They could go to Hawaii," Alice argued.

"Somewhere Charlie could go and _not_ have a stroke when he sees the human disco balls in the sunlight," Jacob amended, still grinning, "and I use the term 'human' loosely."

Renesmee punched him again as Alice frowned -- I was certain at the location restriction rather than the insult -- but she didn't press the issue.

"Oh, baby," Bella whispered suddenly as she rushed over and took her daughter in her arms. Renesmee rose from Jacob's lap to embrace her mother tightly. Bella hadn't said much throughout the whole ordeal, and I was beginning to wonder how she felt about it all. I could feel the mixture of emotions, but it was hard to tell which was winning out.

"Are you ... okay with this, Mom?" Ness asked softly, pulling away and looking into her mother's eyes for her reaction. "I know Dad is furious, but I was hoping ... I thought you might understand --"

"Oh, darling! I am _so_ happy for you! I will admit it's a little ... strange. I mean, after all, you _are_ only six -- we haven't had a lot of time to get used to the idea that you're an adult now. But we _did_ always know this was coming, and if you can stand him," Bella smiled weakly, looking at her best friend, " no one will take better care of you than Jacob will. As strange as it all may be, you two were meant for each other."

"Thank you," Ness whispered as she hugged her mother again. Bella wiped the tears from her daughter's eyes.

"And don't worry about your father, he'll come around. He knows as well as I do that no one will love you more than Jacob will. It's just harder for him to ... let go. He fought so hard to keep you safe, to protect you. The thought of you being under someone else's protection, out of his hands, makes him panicky. It's not personal," she added to Jacob.

"Sure it's not," Jacob muttered, shoveling another bite into his mouth. Bella sighed. We all knew it was a _little_ personal.

"So, La Push then," Alice pressed doggedly, "What sort of a dress were you thinking? I don't know if a train would survive La Push..."

Renesmee chuckled softly at Alice's undeterrable enthusiasm. Everyone settled around the table to discuss the wedding plans and contemplate internally what they would mean for each of us. Our little girl was grown up. She was getting married. Leaving. I vacillated between sharing Edward's ire and giving in to the euphoric happiness radiating from Jacob and Renesmee. It was just too weird. Our baby. Our miracle child.

I decided to distract myself immediately.

"So did you ever find out what was wrong with the motorcycle?" I asked, turning to Jacob. Everyone else continued with the wedding plans as though they hadn't heard me. Jacob snickered.

"Yeah, when I had helped her off the bike I disconnected the starter," he chuckled again, "She had no idea. She may be a genius, but she's about as oblivious as Bella when it comes to anything with a motor."

I laughed too. "So you really had this all planned out, huh? How did you keep Edward from knowing this whole time?"

"Well, I'm sure he knows I've been thinking about it for a while, but I hadn't really set my mind to it until two weeks ago. Ness and I were in Port Angeles and she was trying on some dresses and the dressing room happened to be near a jewelry counter. I saw some of the rings and it started the wheels turning, you know?"

"You bought her a ring there?" I asked, trying not to concentrate on the horror Alice would feel when she learned her niece's ring was purchased at a department store.

"No," Jacob snorted, "Do you think Alice or Rosalie would ever let me live it down if I did? They would have ripped that thing off her finger and chucked it into the woods."

I laughed a little too loudly. Everyone looked at me curiously and I tried to stifle the laugh, managing only to cough awkwardly instead. I could just see Alice and Rose doing exactly that. Edward might have had two more people on his side...

"No, I went to Seattle with Billy last week -- when I said I had to take him to the doctor, remember? -- and we hit up every jewelry store in the city. Nothing seemed quite right for her, though. All the new sparkly rings just seemed too ... _ordinary_. I was starting to think it was a sign or something when we finally passed this antique shop. Billy suggested we go in and I was getting desperate by this point so I said okay. The guy showed me about twenty rings, and they were all beautiful, but none of them was _Ness_. Finally he said, 'Wait, I have just the thing,' and he went into the back and came out with the most perfect ring I could have imagined. It was antique gold with this beautiful diamond surrounded by deep green emeralds. They reminded me of the woods, and the gold was so warm and bright... There's even an inscription inside in French, which -- according to the owner, so I hope he's right -- says, 'Eternity with you is heaven on earth' or something. It's a little cheesy in English, but it sounded very poetic when he said it in French..."

I nodded, trying not to smile again. It was a very romantic sentiment. I said it to myself in French,

_Etérnité avec tu est paradis sur terre _

It was just the thought of Jacob and a "poetic" French inscription that I found slightly comical. Just another tally on the "Things I Never Thought I'd See Jacob Black Do" list. It was sweet, though.

"It does suit her," I said after a moment, studying the ring on Renesmee's finger. He was right about the gold -- far from gaudy or garish, the warm hue accented her creamy skin beautifully. "I think Alice and Rose will be proud of you -- though Rose will never admit it."

Jacob grinned. "Thanks. I certainly did my best. And she seems to like it, so," he shrugged, and I knew that sentence would be finished, _So who cares what anyone else thinks_. He was right, though. Renesmee seemed to love her ring, and that was really all that mattered, even to Alice and Rosalie.

"So how did you keep Edward from knowing?" I asked again, still curious. It was nearly impossible to keep secrets from Edward.

"Oh yeah, well, don't tell anyone," Jacob winked, looking around us conspiratorially, "but I've actually gotten pretty good at keeping things from Edward. You just have to be really careful to focus on something else and what's going on around you. Maybe it's harder for you guys," he shrugged again, noting my quizzical expression, "I mean, supposedly there's a lot more room in your heads to fill up, so it's probably harder to block out specific thoughts. But I've gotten it down to a science, as long as I'm concentrating. I think about whatever I want him to hear, and then that last little bit of background thought I fill with concentrating on whatever's going on around me -- conversations, movements, opinions about what people are saying or might be thinking... It's worked pretty well so far."

"Hmm," I said, my brow furrowed. I wondered if that would work. There weren't usually any secrets I needed to keep from my brother, but once in a while it would be nice to have some mental privacy. It would be _fantastic_ to actually beat him at wrestling or Chess or something.

"You'll have to give it a shot sometime," Jacob chuckled, scraping the last remnants of potato from his plate and rising to put the dish in the sink.

"I'll start practicing," I grinned. Poor Edward. We really did gang up on him sometimes.

"--what about a band? Not one of those cheesy wedding bands, more like an orchestra? You could have a harp and a cello and violins... It would be so beautiful--" Alice was rambling on. I smiled at her sheer determination and patted poor Ness reassuringly on the shoulder as I rose to exit the room. Now that I had heard the story of how the engagement had come about, I had to admit I wasn't really all that interested in the particulars of the actual ceremony. I was sure I'd hear _endless_ details about it from every female in the house for the next ten months -- it would be all Alice would talk about, and I was suddenly envious of human couples who needed to sleep at least a few hours a night.

"She'll rip my throat out for this, but you can always tell her _no_," I whispered in Renesmee's ear as I touched her shoulder. Alice glared at me so darkly I was suddenly sure that my "winnings" from our bet were off the table. I kissed Alice quickly on the head, though she tried to duck out of the way, and strolled briskly out the back door. Maybe I would find Edward -- his choice of activities for working off a little of that emotion might be very entertaining. I smiled to myself as I raced off into the woods following his scent. I'd start practicing right now.


	5. Chapter 5

5. PLANS

"UGH! THIS IS GOING TO TAKE FOREVER," JACOB COMPLAINED, TOSSING

another college application toward the middle of the oval mahogany table. There was now a pile of applications about three inches high on the center of the dining room table. Jacob slouched back in his chair, exasperated.

"You said you wanted to go to college," Edward reminded him with a wry smile as he passed through the living room and out the front door.

"Bite me," Jacob muttered under his breath. I assumed Edward heard it, but he ignored him. Bella had begged him not to fight with Jacob anymore. I was sure there were plenty of spats on the horizon anyway -- planning your half-vampire only daughter's speedily-approaching wedding to your wife's ex-admiring werewolf best friend was bound to cause some friction. I shook my head and moved a knight to take out Emmett's remaining rook.

Emmett and I were sprawled out in the back corner of the living room, engaged in one of our epic chess matches. We had combined four boards this time, and we played by the rules we had established for such games years ago. I was winning as usual, but you never knew. Sometimes Emmett got lucky.

Renesmee picked up the application Jacob had abandoned and began filling out the necessary information for him in her quick but elegant script. Although there were still the details to work out -- like how exactly Jacob was going to get in somewhere Edward deemed acceptable without a high school diploma -- we had narrowed the list of possible colleges down to about twelve.

"If it's this much work to even get in..." Jacob grumbled. Renesmee shot him a disparaging glance.

"You promised," she reminded him.

He sighed loudly and leaned over to take the application back from her.

"Give me the damn pen."

"So how is Jenks doin' with the forgeries?" Emmett asked. Any excuse to prolong his thinking time, I smirked.

"Well, Mom says it's going to be difficult, but she thinks he can do it. She gave him a little, um, added incentive."

I growled, not a deep animal growl, just a snarl of annoyance. I knew what kind of incentive J Jenks needed, and it wasn't monetary. Emmett rolled his eyes.

"Here," he said, moving a bishop to take out my knight.

"Oh, so much to learn," I sighed patronizingly. He had left his queen wide open.

"So," Renesmee turned back to Jacob, "Have you thought about what you want to major in? That might affect where we go. We'll have to look at the pre-reqs for classes too. We might be a little limited since--"

She cut off, biting her lip. Jacob looked up, half reproachful, half disconsolate. Emmett and I were quickly very absorbed in our game.

"Since I didn't finish high school," he finished glumly. "Yeah, I know."

"Well, it's not like you can't _learn_ everything you need, even if you don't learn it in _school_," she added quickly. "I never went to school, after all."

We all rolled our eyes at that. Considering Renesmee learned to read by listening to her mother recite Tennyson while she was still in her crib, the thought of her finger painting and sounding out Dr. Suess books in the Forks school system was a bit ridiculous.

"You know what I mean," she muttered.

I knew she was frustrated. She never considered Jacob "dumb," but no one's intellect could really compare to hers. It was like Einstein hanging out with college kids. They could have carried on conversations, he may even have found some new ways of looking at things, but they simply weren't equals. Especially when Jacob's IQ did not match his education. He was a quick, intelligent kid, but he had never been much interested in literature or philosophy or history, other than the Quileute's that is. When you spent all your time with a house full of immortals with unending time and money on their hands to learn and educate themselves, it had to be tough on your ego. I assumed it was just easier to give up than to try to catch up. Renesmee wasn't sure how to make Jacob see that he had as much potential as anyone, he just hadn't applied himself yet. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but when you were practically perfect, how did you convince someone else that they were talented too without seeming patronizing? It was a thin line to tread, and I didn't envy her attempting it.

"Well, it doesn't matter. Edward or Renesmee can tell you whatever you need to know, and Jenks will forge you a four-point-oh, so what's the big deal?" Emmett shrugged and looked back at the boards. He didn't have a lot of options left now.

Jacob scowled. I could tell he was aggravated. He was a pretty proud guy, and I knew he didn't like the thought of the mountains of Cullen money he was taking to be able to attend school with his fiancée. It was a great tribute to his feelings for Renesmee that he was accepting this gift at all. (Not that he had a lot of choice. "Werewolf Protector of the Reservation" didn't exactly pay very well.) The thought of having Renesmee and Edward _give_ him all the answers on top of that must seem almost unendurable.

He sat brooding, flipping the pen over and over in his hand. Renesmee decided to give him his space and strolled into the living room to observe what was about to be -- I smiled -- the final moment of the chess match.

"And, check mate," I said, nonchalantly knocking over Emmett's king. "Another match to Jasper."

I smiled a little smugly. Emmett glowered at me.

"Wrestling match. Backyard. Now." He got up and stalked off out the back door. I shrugged, chuckling.

"If you want to keep embarrassing yourself."

Renesmee giggled and shook her head.

"Play nice. You know what Grandma said about her new vegetable garden."

I cringed. Since there were finally people around the house who ate food, Esme had delightedly begun growing vegetables in a patch of the backyard, out near the south corner of the lawn. Emmett and I had already demolished that and her rose garden in one of our more exuberant tussles two weeks ago; I didn't want to destroy the recently re-planted plot again.

"I'll tell Emmett to keep it toned down."

"Right," she snorted. I saw her sit down in front of the TV out of the corner of my eye as I followed my brother out to the yard. Maybe I should let him win. He'd certainly be in a better mood if I did, but I could never quite bring myself to throw a competition. We were more evenly matched at this game, at least. Emmett had his incredible brute strength, I had my years of combat experience. Emmett stomped to the edge of the lawn and turned to face me, like a gunslinger in the old west.

"Remember to watch out for Esme's vegetables!" I called to him. He nodded, then scuffed at the ground like an angry bull. I grinned broadly and knelt into a crouch.

With a roar Emmett ran at me, coming with the force of a steam engine. This wasn't going to be pretty. I sprung over him and he wheeled around just in time to avoid taking out the back wall of the house. Maybe we should have gone into the forest, I thought quickly. He came at me again and this time I let him hit me, our bodies crashing together like boulders in a rockslide. This was one reason we didn't have neighbors. Emmett tried to get his broad arms around me, which was usually his tactic. He knew if he could just wrap those bands of steel around, no one could get free. But this go-to move was predictable, and I ducked down, smashing into his knees with all my force, trying to knock him to the ground. It didn't work. Emmett was able to steady himself before he fell, and he turned again to try to get a hold of me. I leapt quickly back and Emmett laughed now, a deep growl of a chuckle.

"It's no fun if you won't actually _fight_ me," he provoked. I grinned wryly and readied myself for another leap. In the time it would take Jacob to blink, I propelled myself through the air and rammed into Emmett's chest. Apparently he wasn't expecting this, for he staggered back, grasping at me with his iron hands. Unfortunately I hadn't gotten my balance under me yet, and I wasn't able to spring back quickly enough. As Emmett fell to the ground he gripped his hands around my biceps like a vice, taking me with him. We rolled together in the sodden grass, each trying to pin the other.

We were still grappling when Esme found us.

"Oh, boys!" she yelled in exasperation, throwing up her hands. We both froze and looked up at her, our poor mother.

"I just planted those!" she wailed again, stomping out onto the lawn.

"Whoops," Emmett mumbled, sitting up. I brushed the now-mangled carrot tops and celery roots off my shirt, abashed. We had been oblivious to our location on the lawn, and the garden, once again, had paid for it.

"We're sorry, Esme. We'll plant them again..." I muttered apologetically.

"It's too late in the season now," she sighed. She stooped down to scoop up a murdered tomato vine. Emmett and I stood up, looking at the floor and shuffling uncomfortably. I felt like a schoolboy getting detention.

"I guess I should have known better than to try to plant something back here, knowing how you boys love to play..."

It was just like Esme to take the blame on herself. I felt intensely guilty. I'd find a way to make it up to her, though. Damn Emmett!

"Oh Jazz, you didn't!" Alice cantered out the door, gliding to stand next to Esme, her hand on her shoulder. Figured. Where was Emmett's guilt-trip?

"Oh, it doesn't matter that much," Esme sighed again. "They're just vegetables."

"We'll fix it," Emmett promised. I nodded. Esme seemed as though she was trying to hold back a smile.

"I know. But you're lucky I don't send you two to bed without supper," she barely suppressed her grin. "You look like two children who just got into the cookie jar or something."

Alice laughed, and Emmett and I couldn't help grinning sheepishly. Poor Esme always forgave us.

"We really will make it up to you," I said, as we all walked back into the house.

"Sure. But first, do me a favor. Take a shower. You two are filthy!"

I looked down at my tattered and dirt-sodden clothes, abashed again.

"The new Cavalli," Alice shook her head, referring to my now-ruined shirt. She had just gotten it for me from the fall collection. It had barely hit the runways. I looked at my feet again as I trudged up the stairs toward the bathroom Alice and I shared. Damn Emmett!

I tossed the mauled shirt into the wastebasket and undressed for my shower. I wondered, as I turned on the water, why we even paid for hot water. Lukewarm felt steaming hot to me. I stepped in and watched -- guilty again -- as soil and tiny hair-like roots washed down the drain.

"Knock, knock." I heard Alice's voice on the other side of the door. I didn't answer. If she was going to lecture me again I would pretend the water drowned her out.

"So I think I'm going to take a trip to Seattle tomorrow. The weather's going to change and it will rain all day. I was thinking you could go and get your tux fitted -- it came today."

The corners of my mouth twitched. Of course Alice wouldn't find any tuxedo in Washington acceptable for the gala event being planned for Carlisle and Esme. She had ordered one direct from Armani, but my suits usually had to be altered. I was taller than the average thirty-three, but the waists in the thirty-four's were always too big. And the arms were never long enough in those coats.

"Yeah, I'll go. What do you need to do there?"

"Well, apparently Seattle has decided to go vogue -- they've opened up a Michael Kors boutique. There are a few skirts I wanted to look at. And I thought maybe Bella--"

I groaned loudly.

"Well it won't hurt to ask her," Alice continued belligerently.

"Your funeral," I muttered. I hoped she couldn't hear me over the water, but I could picture her rolling her eyes. She closed the door and walked down the hallway. Hadn't poor Bella had enough in the past twenty-four hours without Alice trying to force fashion down her throat again? I couldn't help grinning, though. Alice was so _persistent_!

Certain that I had washed off all traces of the vegetable killing spree, I turned off the water and reached for a towel. When I was dry I wrapped it around my waist and headed into the enormous closet. Maybe I could find something that would appease Alice in here, something that would make up for destroying the Cavalli. I selected a Bottega Veneta ensemble -- also just off the runway -- that Alice was very fond of. The muted earthy tones brought out the gold in my hair and didn't make my skin look quite so pale. I had to admit, I thought as I looked myself over in the floor-length mirror, having a fashionista for a wife had its perks.

I hopped down the stairs just behind Emmett, who was running his hands through his wet curls absently.

"So who won?" Jacob asked with mild interest from the dining room.

"I did," we answered simultaneously. We all laughed.

"Apparently the only real loser was Esme's garden," Renesmee giggled. Emmett glared at her and my eyes shot to the floor again. She chuckled softly.

"Oh, she's not mad. I think she expected it would happen."

"So, any progress on the applications?" I asked to change the subject. Jacob groaned.

"I see," Emmett snickered. We both took seats at the table. I felt badly for Jacob. I really did like the kid, though his _smell_ was still something I hadn't gotten used to. Maybe it would be a good thing when he and Renesmee lived somewhere else ... but no, I knew I would endure almost anything to have Renesmee around, just as we all would. The only thing that could make us let her go was just what had happened. She would be happier this way. None of us could deny her that happiness, however much we might miss her. I snatched an application and a pen and began filling out Jacob's information.

"Dartmouth?" Jacob snorted as he looked at the letterhead on the application in my hands. "Does Edward _want_ me to never get in anywhere? Come on!"

"Oh, we got Bella in, we can get you in," Emmett grinned.

"I heard that!" echoed down from upstairs. Bella was apparently with Rosalie and Alice, no doubt being fashion-coached for the anniversary. Emmett snickered again.

"Oh, Dartmouth would be perfect!" Renesmee said, her eyes lighting up. "Dad has a house there and there are tons of woods and hiking areas, and it's only a few hours from Boston and Montreal and New York -- wouldn't Aunt Alice love to be close to New York?"

"Oh, no!" I grimaced, "You think she's bad _now_--"

"_I_ heard _that_!" Alice called.

Hmm, Dartmouth, I thought. That actually wasn't a bad idea. Hanover was rather centrally located -- at least for those of us who could run over a mile a minute. And Alice _would_ love New York City -- my god, she'd be in heaven! It was a good thing we had basically unlimited financial resources at our disposal -- between getting Jacob and Renesmee into college and turning Alice loose on Park Avenue, we would be living on the streets otherwise.

"I think Dartmouth would be good," I said, still thoughtful. "We'll have to see what Jenks can do. And Dartmouth doesn't have a Cullen Library yet."

Emmett chortled as Jacob moaned.

"I'll talk to my dad," Renesmee said confidently. She knew there were few things her father would deny her, and Dartmouth _had_ been one of the "acceptable" schools he selected.

"Dartmouth it is!" Emmett crowed. "Rose! We're gonna be Big Greens!"

"What's a 'Big Green?'" Jacob grumbled.

"How's their baseball team this year?" Rosalie called down. Emmett's broad smile made me think there was something more to the joke that I was missing. I cringed -- I didn't want to think about it.

"I'm gonna go look at the course guide!" Renesmee cried excitedly. She moved over to Alice's touch-screen computer in the corner of the living room.

"Dartmouth," Jacob slouched in his chair, shaking his head, "My dad's never going to believe this."

I grinned. It was all going to work out, I was sure of it. Renesmee would grow up, it was inevitable, but we would all still get to be together. I would still be able to see her every day if I wanted to, and our family would stay intact. I didn't realize until I felt the relief wash over me how worried I had been. Losing my niece would mean more than her absence, it would mean the end of an era -- an era of immense happiness and contentment -- and the beginning of a darker time. No one would have been easy to live with if we lost Renesmee. It was hard to remember our lives without her -- well, figuratively speaking. Our memories were steel traps. But though we had thought we were happy and whole before her birth -- even overfilling, with the recent addition of Bella to our family -- I realized that we were missing a vital part of our lives without even knowing it. Renesmee had made us whole, had strengthened our bond. We were better for knowing her. It was certainly good we got to keep her near us -- what would we be without her now?

"Hey Jasper," Jacob's barely audible whisper broke through my thoughts. I raised my eyebrows in response, a little taken aback. His expression seemed to be asking me for a favor. How odd, I thought. I was truly fond of Jacob now, but it wasn't so long ago that I had been number two or three on his "Cullen Hit List." After Edward, it was me and Emmett that Jacob wanted dead, was fully willing, even eager, to kill. Well, _try_ to kill. I assumed this was mostly because he viewed Emmett and me as the most dangerous. After he had imprinted on Renesmee, clearing all hatred of Edward and most the distrust of the rest of us out from his mind, he had been more, well, friendly to me. I wouldn't say he had "warmed" to any of us at first -- it was more that we had a common goal then, protecting Renesmee -- but the thoughts (and feelings) of trying to rip us to pieces didn't enter his head anymore. Throughout the past few years I would say we had grown closer, even rather amiable, but I wasn't sure that he considered us "friends."

He looked at me almost apprehensively but somewhat defiantly, as though asking for my help but fearing a rebuff. I couldn't imagine what he might want from me.

"Could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," I answered, still puzzled, but I followed him to the front door.

"We'll be right back," Jacob called to anyone listening as we walked out the door. He strode swiftly across the porch and into the ferns, out of hearing range.

"What's up, Jake?" I asked kindly. He looked nervous.

"Well, look, I..." He shuffled his feet and stared at the ground. _My God, he'd better not be asking me for honeymoon tips!_ I thought, horrified. Finally he straightened up and looked me in the eyes.

"So, I know you guys are going to _bribe_ my way into school," he almost choked on the word, "but I want to feel like, I don't know, like I actually _deserve_ to be there. Just for myself."

I waited. I didn't really know what he was getting at. He continued.

"I'm not dumb--"

"I know that," I interrupted him.

"Thanks. I know I could have done well in high school if I had, you know, stuck around. It just seemed so unimportant compared to...well, what was going on. But now..." His voice trailed off and he looked toward the house.

"Yeah, I know," I said quietly. Poor Jacob. I still wasn't sure what he might need _me_ for, but I felt badly for him. I could feel the regret and and feelings of inadequacy warring with defiance in him.

"So I was thinking I'd like to get my GED at least. Prove to myself I _could_ have passed high school. I know it won't help with _Dartmouth_," the last word was almost a snort, "But at least _I'd_ know. Maybe the SATs, too..."

He looked at me again, almost daring me to laugh at him. I was perfectly serious. This wasn't funny, it was admirable. Jacob was a good guy.

"I think those are great ideas. You're a smart guy, it should be no problem."

His face broke into that easy grin now.

"Well, I don't know about 'no problem.' Actually, that's why I wanted to talk to you. I'm sure Bella would help me, but I feel kinda weird about talking to her about it. I kind of wanted to keep this to myself, you know? At least until I know for sure I'll pass--"

"Of course you'll pass," I cut in quickly. He grinned half-heartedly and continued.

"Edward wouldn't be able to read Bella's thoughts," he grimaced at the idea of Edward knowing his plan, "but I thought you'd be able to keep it from him, too..." He looked at me again, that same almost-beseeching look on his dark features.

"I won't tell him," I assured him, still confused. If he didn't want Edward to know, why tell me in the first place? Of course I would do my best to keep it from my brother if Jacob asked me too, but wasn't it safer not to tell any of us at all? Just keep it to himself?

He noted my puzzled expression and half smiled.

"You see," he continued, not quite meeting my gaze, "You're all brilliant and all that, right? Bella told me about the four-point-ohs and the who-knows-how-many college classes. And you've all taken your share of tests and all that. I ... I was hoping maybe you'd, well, that maybe you'd help me study." He looked me in the eye, trying to gauge my reaction.

"Oh!" I sucked in a quick breath of air, finally understanding. I tried to keep my expression supportive -- it would never due to wrinkle my nose at his smell now. "Of course!" I smiled encouragingly. _This was so much better than honeymoon tips!_ I chuckled in relief, "Of course I'll help you! And if you want to keep it surreptitious, you have my promise I won't breathe a word."

He grinned broadly and looked me in the face again.

"Maybe we can start with vocab -- like what the hell 'surreptitious' means!" We both laughed loudly, and I patted him roughly on the back.

"No problem. We'll have you GED-ed and SAT-ed in no time!" We turned back toward the porch. I could feel Jacob's emotions lightening as the weight was removed from his shoulders. I spent a half a second wondering why he didn't ask his father or one of his pack brothers for help before I decided that he was right -- who had more practice with schools and tests than the Cullens? He certainly would never admit to Edward that he wanted to prove himself -- he was probably partially proving himself _to_ Edward. Renesmee would be supportive, as would Bella, but I understood that he'd never want to disappoint them by failing. I doubted he would fail, with or without my help, but still. I understood his feelings. He greatly respected Carlisle, but I was sure he viewed the thought of Carlisle tutoring him as almost as humiliating as Edward helping him. He would rather gnaw off his own arm that ask Rosalie, or Emmett who would undoubtedly _tell_ Rosalie. So who was left? Me, Alice, and Esme. Esme would certainly be supportive -- almost _too_ supportive. It would be like Alice's too-understanding reactions to my weakness for human blood. Sometimes Alice's constant understanding and encouragement was too much, like when she had insisted on being my own personal cheerleader throughout our Forks High School days, praising me every second I didn't rip some poor child's throat out. It was almost degrading, despite knowing how well she meant. I knew Jacob was fond of Alice, but maybe _because_ he felt less affection for me, he could admit to me this weakness, this desire. Because I didn't view him in any particular way, my vision of him could not be tarnished by this request.

My encouraging smile began to broaden to one of genuine anticipation. I certainly didn't mind helping him, and I was actually rather pleased that he had trusted me with this secret and with this task. I thought it would bring us closer together -- something I didn't really realize I had particularly cared about until now. But if he was going to marry Nessie -- my jaw clenched unconsciously at the idea -- then I would like to know him and be as close to him as I could. I'd like to feel as comfortable with him and as sure of him as Bella did, if that were possible, so I'd be as comfortable with and as sure of him for Nessie as possible. And what could it hurt? A cheerful, confident Jacob with a GED and respectable SAT scores could only benefit us all -- how much happier would Jacob be knowing he deserved to be at an ivy league school? And if he were happier, Renesmee would be happier, and what more could any of us want than that?

"Since when were you two so buddy-buddy?" Rosalie sniffed, as we walked back into the house, our arms around each other's shoulders. I was delighted to help the boy that was making my little girl happy. Besides, I admired Jacob's spirit.

"Oh, since he told me the _best_ dumb blond joke. You wanna hear it?" Jacob chortled. With a huff Rosalie swung her long golden hair and flounced out into the garage. We both broke out into loud snickers.

"Just like children in the cookie jar," Esme sighed as she walked into the kitchen, shaking her head and smiling. We looked at each other and broke into unrestrained laughter. This was going to be a good thing. I was actually looking forward to it. I understood why Bella was so fond of Jacob -- the kid was easy to get along with. _And maybe we could find some new ways to torture Rosalie_, I thought, with a grin.

"Maybe our first order of business should be to research some new jokes," Jacob chortled, echoing my thoughts. I smirked broadly. _Yep_, I thought, grinning wider still, _this would _certainly_ be a good thing_.

"To research and blond jokes," I chuckled, nodding at him.

"To research and blond jokes," he agreed. We laughed loudly again and set off toward the college applications.


	6. Chapter 6

6. REUNION

THE WEEKS PASSED BY RATHER UNEVENTFULLY UNTIL THE WEEK BEFORE THE MUCH anticipated Carlisle-Esme Ninetieth Anniversary Gala. This was bigger than the Prom -- well at least to us, as we had attended a few dozen proms between us throughout the years. Alice, of course, had taken the lead on the event planning, but everyone had their share in the preparation for the occasion. We were taking a road trip up to Tanya's in Denali and staying with her family the night before the actual anniversary. We were going to hunt some of the wildlife that was not as plentiful in Washington: there were the smaller but equally as fierce game such as the wolverines, harvest foxes, and lynxes for Edward (though he preferred the larger mountain lions, lynxes were faster and somewhat harder to catch), the occasional hunting grizzly bear for Emmett -- fresh out of hibernation -- and the arctic wolves, which I was looking forward to pursuing. Then Alice and Edward had selected, according to them, the "most beautiful spot" about twenty miles outside Denali for the festivities the day of. Alice was sure it was going to snow, and the gorgeous clearing in the rare area of thick woods would be a winter wonderland; a flurry of snow and black and white spruce and early-blooming golden Arnica. I hadn't seen the location myself yet, but the way Alice and Edward described it, it sounded amazing. Just the place for Carlisle and Esme.

So on Wednesday, the day we were leaving for Alaska, we piled the lights and the sound system and the generator and the mountains of suitcases and the boxes upon boxes of decorations into the cars and loaded ourselves in for the trip. Jacob, truly family now, was coming along (the only non-vampire in the company). He and Renesmee were riding with Bella and Edward in the Ferrari. Alice and I were to be in the back of Emmett's Jeep, with Rosalie in the front seat. We were going to be the slowest, as we had to lug a trailer on the back of the vehicle to fit the folding tables and piles of "necessities" Alice insisted we bring. Emmett had sighed, suggesting hopefully that maybe I might want to drive his car while he and Rose took Alice's Porsche, but Bella, always the practical one, insisted so many cars would be ridiculous.

"You guys could always ride with Carlisle and Esme," I suggested, grinning sarcastically. Emmett and Rosalie looked over at our "parents" who stood facing each other, hands tracing the other's face, staring into each other's eyes meaningfully. It was such a deeply personal moment we all felt awkward seeing it. There had been a lot of these moments lately.

"I think I'll pass," Emmett grumbled as he rolled his eyes and swung lightly into the Jeep.

"So we'll see you there, ok?" Alice hinted, trying to break Carlisle and Esme out of their reverie. Carlisle just nodded, not taking his eyes away from Esme's. I shook my head, chuckling softly, and climbed into the Jeep too.

"So you sure we have everything?" Rosalie asked as Alice slid in beside me.

"Better hope so -- I don't think we'll make it up the hills if we have to stuff anything else back there," Emmett griped as he jerked his head toward the over-laden trailer. "Ugh," he groaned as he revved the engine and began to pull out of the garage. The extra weight was obvious. "This is gonna suck."

"Oh, get over it. It's for Carlisle and Esme." Alice purred, undeterred.

"Well, if we want to get there before spring, we'd better get this show on the road," Rosalie said to Emmett. Even the sarcastic snarl to her lips was stunning. How strange it must be to _always_ look perfect, I mused. I was glad Alice had more to offer than simply beauty. She had that too, though it was a different, more profound kind of beauty than Rosalie's. But there was so much depth to Alice, so many facets. She was brilliant and kind and compassionate and funny... I squeezed her tiny hand in the darkness of the tinted car. She squeezed back and beamed at me.

"Oh, I'm so excited! This is going to be so _wonderful_!"

And it would be. I didn't need Alice's sight to tell me that. Our entire family and extended family would be together celebrating the love that we all shared and the immortal love Carlisle and Esme shared. As gag-inducing as some of their recent "moments" had been, honestly it was mostly just ... wonderful. It was amazing that after nearly a century they still felt the exact same level of commitment and passion and true love for one another as they had the first moment they had set eyes on each other. Carlisle had saved Esme out of love, inexplicable and sudden as it had been. And in a way, Esme had saved him. Not as literally as Alice had rescued me, for Carlisle had never struggled with the base demons I had, but Esme saved him from a life of emptiness and pointless existence. She had given his life meaning, and the whole world ought to be thankful for that. There were never two more incredible people in this world than Carlisle and Esme. The way Carlisle could see the sides to every issue and yet, somehow, always seem to choose the right path. The way he could resist all temptation and be utterly selfless and courageous and noble. And Esme, with her amazing ability to just _love_ -- to love all of us no matter what we might do, to be willing to do _anything_ for any of us, regardless of the costs to herself. They were _incredible_. If I didn't adore and respect them so much, they might give me a complex.

The blaring bass and piano refrain of "Werewolves Of London" made us all look up as Bella's Ferrari flew past us, passing on the left. Renesmee and Jacob howled out the lyrics at the top of their lungs as Bella waved and Edward shook his head in annoyance. Emmett grumbled something about "if we didn't have that damned trailer" as Rose and Alice waved back. I laughed softly to myself. This was going to be a _long_ trip for Edward!

The scenery flew by as the Jeep, despite the weight of the trailer, raced along the highway. Most of the conversation centered around rehashing the details of the party as Alice and Rosalie animatedly described everyone's outfits, the decorations, the music -- all the "girly things," as Emmett said, that were not quite as interesting to us. Emmett and I each had our parts to play, but we didn't feel the need to describe them in endless detail. After a while Emmett and I left our wives to their girl talk and began a discussion of our own about the possible prey we might find in Denali. Emmett was eagerly hoping to find a few grizzlies that had slumped out of hibernation already. Though it was still a little early for the bears to emerge, there were always a handful that were hungry enough to brave the cold and sparse prey before spring. But the hungrier they were, the meaner they were, so this suited Emmett just fine. I was looking forward to stalking some of the wolves -- they would not be as large or strong now as they would be in a few months when food was more plentiful, but just like the bears they would be meaner. I was toying with the idea of trying to take on a whole pack at once. I knew they couldn't hurt me; the challenge would lie in trying to get them all before they dispersed. I wasn't sure if I could do it or not, but I was certainly looking forward to the challenge.

"Do you think Jacob will get pissed if you kill a wolf?" Emmett asked, vaguely contemplative.

"Hmm, I don't know. Do you think I should ask him?" My face fell at the thought. I was really looking forward to hunting wolves. But, I supposed, if it would upset Jacob...

"Nah, what he doesn't know won't hurt 'im." Emmett shrugged off the idea. I was sure Jacob's feelings were not as large a consideration for him as they were for me. But maybe Emmett was right. Jacob didn't _need_ to know what I was hunting...

It was a long trip. Emmett could only push the Jeep to about a hundred miles an hour before the trailer would start swaying ominously. Though the drive from Forks to Denali would take two days by the posted speed limits, we usually made it in nineteen hours or so. This time it took us a whole day. Emmett was cranky to say the least by the time we finally reached Tanya's. I had employed a little of my calming influence through the last leg of the trip just to make it bearable for the rest of us. I promised him we would hunt as soon as everything was unpacked to assuage his temper a bit. Maybe I would even offer a wrestling match, to let him work out some of his frustration.

Everyone else was, of course, already there by the time we arrived. Tanya, Kate, Carmen, Eleazar, and Garrett came out to greet us, followed by the rest of my family. Tanya's strawberry blonde curls blew in the crisp wind as she glided out, barefoot, to embrace us all in turn. Kate was just behind her, her stick-straight blonde hair, as smooth and fine as a baby's, brushing against my cheek as she hugged me. Carmen kissed my cheek lightly, her olive skin looking almost tan -- for a vampire -- against mine. Eleazar patted me roughly on the shoulder as he put one arm around me, smiling in welcome.

Garrett was last. He shook hands with us all, a little awkwardly, though he had a huge grin across his carefree face. He always looked somehow weather beaten, a wanderer, though this only served to make him appear ruggedly handsome. Garrett was the newest addition to Tanya's family and the most recent to attempt "vegetarianism." Although I had not spent much time with him since he had gone to live with the Denalis, I had always liked him. Maybe it was a comfort to know I wasn't the "greenhorn" anymore, as we said in Texas, to know that Garrett had difficulty with the way of life we had all chosen, just as I did. Maybe it was because he was an adventurer, a rover, with fascinating stories to tell and a lighthearted personality that you couldn't help but be drawn to. Or maybe it was because, like me, he had set aside his darker days and baser ways for the love of a woman, just as I had. He hadn't been nearly as troubled by the morality of feeding on humans as I had been, but still, to give up one way of life, the only way you had known, to be able to spend it with someone else -- I felt a certain connection to him. He was a kindred spirit in a way.

"Welcome back," Garrett grinned at me, "It's been a while, Jasper. I've been looking forward to some games..." He glanced to Emmett too, and both of us returned his grin. Garrett was more fun to fight with than Edward, and it would be nice to scrap with someone besides each other for a change.

"Say the word," Emmett beamed. His sour mood already seemed to be forgotten.

"Well let's spend a _few_ quality minutes together before you try to rip each other's throats out," Tanya chuckled, leading the way back into the house. Maybe _house_ wasn't the right word. Tanya's place was an enormous wooden cabin, more like a ski lodge than a house. The floor plan was simple; the place was one enormous rectangle, only separated into rooms -- by walls -- upstairs. The entire first floor was one open space except for the staircase. There was an immense living room with a thick shag area rug and two plush couches arranged in front of an immense stone fireplace; in the south corner was the small and unused kitchen; there was a huge coat closet under the broad straight staircase; and there was the dining room, denoted only by the gigantic oval pine table and the exquisite crystal chandelier that somehow seemed to fit the decor. I remembered the first time I had been here I had thought a tacky creation of compressed antlers would be more appropriate, but knowing Tanya and her sisters now, as I did, that idea was ludicrous. Though the place might look like a ski lodge on the outside, the Denali clan's tastes were just as refined as Esme's in their own way. Their interior decorating had certainly been inspired by the Alaskan countryside, but there was still an elegance about it all. They had not taken the beauty and grandeur of Alaska and reduced it to some touristy caricature. Somehow they had encapsulated all the majesty and magnificence of the land around them into their home. A very different style from Esme's soft, muted, color palette, but striking all the same.

Tanya situated herself cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace. A fire was raging, more for ambiance than warmth -- none of us needed the heat.

"So come tell me what you four have been up to. I've already heard the details of Renesmee's wonderful news," she shot an amused glance at Edward before turning back to us, "I can't believe we'll have another wedding to celebrate!"

Alice pulled me over to one of the oversized couches in front of Tanya. We sank down into the plush cushions as Alice began describing various unimportant events in our lives. Carmen and Eleazar sat down on the other couch, Kate next to them. Garrett moved to stand behind his mate, one rough-looking hand on her shoulder. The rest of my family milled around, some finding seats, others standing close to the rug. No one really needed to know the minute details of Alice's life, but it was nice to be here together, immersed in small talk. Like a human Christmas or Thanksgiving. We were a family, and it was very pleasant to be here like this.

"So how's the hunting been?" Emmett asked, as soon as there was a break in Alice's narration. She shot him a quick glare. I knew she had been about to regale the Denali family with the details of the new Spring line for Perrine Bruyere -- the designer who had made Bella's wedding gown -- but Emmett was incorrigible. I had to admit, I was more interested in the hunting prospects than the gowns. I patted Alice's thigh placatingly.

"Well, we have seen a few grizzlies," Kate chuckled, "They weren't too big, but boy were they angry!"

"Excellent!" Emmett crowed. "What about wolves?"

It was my turn to glare at him now. Jacob looked up, his eyebrows raised. He was feeling a bit uneasy, but I couldn't be entirely sure why. _Maybe_, I thought hopefully, _he's just concerned that _we_ might feel awkward..._

"There was a rather large pack here three days ago, actually," Garrett shrugged, when no one else answered. "They were headed north, but you'd have to do some tracking to find them now."

I looked fixedly at the ground, not wanting to see Jacob's expression. If I didn't really _know_ how he felt, maybe I could pretend I was oblivious to the distress he would feel if I killed his ... kindred.

"I want to catch a moose," Renesmee said, a little too enthusiastically. It worked, though. Everyone laughed.

"A moose?" Edward raised an eyebrow.

"Sure, those things are supposed to be _giant_. They might be herbivores, but did you know more people are killed by moose every year than by bears? Thinking about changing your prey, Uncle Emmett?"

We all laughed at the expression of disgust on Emmett's face.

"I'll hunt moose with you, Ness," Jacob said. He felt happy again. Maybe all the concern about the wolves was silly. They weren't _actually_ his brothers, after all.

"I swear I'm getting you a ticket to the North Pole for Christmas, Emmett," Bella said, chucking a throw pillow at him. He caught it easily and threw it very hard, not at her, but at Edward. Edward, of course, was not taken by surprise. He smiled wryly, holding onto the pillow ... for now.

"I finally get to meet Santa, huh?" Emmett's expression was overly-enthusiastic. Alice's mouth twitched grudgingly.

"No, then you can hunt some _real_ bears. They have polar bears at the North Pole, you know."

"Aren't polar bears an endangered species?" Jacob asked with mock disapproval.

"I'd better get up there before they go extinct then!" Emmett began his booming laugh when the pillow smashed into his face with the force of a Buick. Everyone roared in laughter at his bewildered expression. Slight chagrin flitted across his face, but it quickly changed to a mischievous smile as a thought occurred to him.

"Bella would never," Edward said, shaking his head, but he shot his wife a wary sidelong glance. We all laughed again at this. Bella was the only one who could surprise Edward, and every so often we were able to talk her into doing us a favor and getting some payback for the decades of "cheating."

"Better stay on my good side," Bella giggled.

"So, what's for dinner?" Renesmee asked her mother in answer to the rumble in Jacob's stomach.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking embarrassed. That kid still had the biggest appetite. Bella had packed an entire trunk-full of snacks and sandwiches and sodas for him for the drive up. How could he be hungry already?

"That's what I wanna know," Emmett grinned, patting his belly. "I think grizzly's on the menu!"

"We can hunt," Jacob said, looking at Renesmee, "No one has to cook anything."

"'Atta boy!" Emmett thumped Jacob on the back, almost knocking him over. I sighed. I guessed I would just stick with bears and lynxes for now. Renesmee could have the moose.

"Well, let's go then," Garrett smiled appreciatively. "How 'bout a bet?"

Emmett's brow raised in interest.

"Whoever kills the biggest bear names the match."

"Deal," Emmett grinned. I was sure his choice would be wrestling. When he wasn't fighting me or Edward, he almost always won at that.

"I'm in too," I said, rising from the couch.

"Boys," Alice shook her head in mock bewilderment. Rose and Bella looked like they agreed.

"We could always make a side bet," I said quietly, winking at her. She rolled her eyes and danced toward the door, her hand outstretched for mine. I took it and we all filed out the door -- all fifteen of us -- to hunt. It was a good thing Alaska was so big -- and we could run so far -- otherwise so many vampires (and a werewolf) in one area might decimate the wildlife population beyond repair. Everyone darted their separate ways, Alice leading me northeast.

"There's a _huge_ bear about forty miles away," she whispered as we began to run. I grinned broadly. Alice wasn't above cheating.


	7. Chapter 7

7. EVENT

THE NEXT DAY AS SOON AS THE SUN WAS UP ALICE WAS IN A TITTER, UNABLE TO

contain her excitement. She led all the Cullens, with the exception of Carlisle and Esme who stayed behind with the Denali clan, and Jacob to the clearing she and Edward had selected. Emmett towed the trailer, Edward carried the elaborate sound system, I held the generator, and everyone else lugged the boxes upon boxes of decorations. The ground was already covered in a thin blanket of white powder that had fallen during the night, but Alice assured us more snow was coming. She had an image of the occasion in her head, and she was a perfectionist when it came to things like this. Not even the weather would dare disobey her.

"Oh," gasped Bella and Renesmee together when we finally reached the location. I stood frozen, stunned by the beauty of the place.

"Alice, it's _perfect_," Rosalie breathed.

Even Emmett nodded in appreciation, "Nice."

Edward and Alice beamed. The woods we had been hiking through, usually sparse this far north, had grown thick and wild but somehow crisply majestic. They did not thin but suddenly opened up into an oblong clearing, so breathtaking we all stopped to marvel at its beauty. The clearing was about a hundred yards long, surrounded by tall black and white spruce trees, dusted in sparkling snow, reaching for the sky. An outcropping of granite boulders lay to the northwest edge. Small golden Arnicas were blooming sporadically across the open space, the flowers breaking above the thin snow covering. Above, the sky was a powdery blue, with thick gray clouds rolling through. A rainbow shone in the distance, and, as the clouds passed by it, the sun would shine in streaking brilliance upon the glittering floor. The place was stunning, like an untouched portion of the earth where man had never tread. Not even like a postcard or photograph in a calendar -- mortal eyes had never seen such a place. It was a pristine woodland paradise, as Edward and Alice had said. It was going to be perfect for the occasion.

It seemed almost blasphemous to add man-made augmentations to this place, but I had faith in Alice. If anyone could work with the natural setting of this dreamland, enhancing its beauty rather than degrading it, it was my little party-planner. Still, I felt a little guilty even desecrating the place with my footprints. I tried to walk very softly.

"So the stereo goes over there," Alice pointed Edward toward the outcropping of rocks, "and Emmett, you can set the trailer down and take out the tables. We'll put them here," she gestured to the southeast edge where we had entered. "Jazz, you can put the generator over by the stereo..."

Alice directed the placement and unloading of the many additions to the natural beauty of the clearing. Then she began decorating in a blur of systematic efficiency. Edward had, appropriately, been assigned the musical entertainment for the evening and he set up the intricate sound system with alacrity. His contribution to the evening would be more in the musical selection than the actual set-up, but no one was more familiar with the equipment than Edward. Rosalie scampered up the spruces with the agility of a monkey (though comparing Rosalie to a monkey was an almost absurd simile), hanging champagne and silver Chinese lanterns on a thin wire from various boughs. Renesmee and Jacob helped Emmett unload the folding tables from the trailer and carefully laid the delicate satin tablecloths over them. Champagne colored satin on the bottom overlapped with the delicate silvery fabric on top. I was in charge of candles -- of which there were hundreds -- so I set about, as Alice directed, grouping them in fours and fives around the outskirts of the clearing.

"Shouldn't we wait on the candles 'til _after_ the snow?" Jacob asked as he helped smooth out a tablecloth.

"Oh, it's not going to snow again until we get here. They'll already be lit by then, and it won't be windy so we will be okay." Alice replied carelessly, sprinkling fine golden confetti all over the snow.

"_You're_ cleaning that up," Bella muttered. Alice ignored her.

Now that the tablecloths were down Bella and Edward set about sprinkling confetti upon them as well as I placed candles in various arrays across their surfaces. Alice flitted to the table carrying an armful of crystal hummingbird figurines. Hummingbirds were Esme's favorite and had become sort of a symbol of her to our family. It seemed appropriate -- hummingbirds were beautiful, delicate, fiercely protective of their offspring, and their work was never done as they flitted from flower to flower keeping nature in harmony. Alice placed the figurines artistically around the tables, winding them in and around the candles with aesthetic precision. After about an hour of work -- a length of time only necessitated by Alice's perfectionism -- we finally packed all the odds and ends into the trailer and began the trek back to the cabin. Alice and Rosalie were ecstatic to don their new "anniversary dresses," but Bella looked a little defiant.

"At least it doesn't take _all day_ to get you presentable anymore," Alice chided, annoyed at Bella's persistent resistance to fashion. Bella glared at her.

"I could always dig out my sweats if you'd like..." she threatened.

"Thank goodness I burned those years ago," Alice smiled sweetly. Bella growled.

"Come on, Mom, we can get ready together. I haven't shown you the shoes I found yet," Renesmee tried to placate her, linking her arm in her mother's. Bella frowned, a little more deeply than necessary.

"Oh, it's catching! Look what you've done to her, Alice!"

The girls all giggled. Emmett, Edward, and I exchanged _Women!_ glances and rolled our eyes. Jacob just chuckled.

* * * *

As the intricately carved grandfather clock near the stairway chimed six o'clock, Alice looked up eagerly.

"Ooh, it's time!" She nearly squealed.

"Can you tie this? It always looks better when you do it," I asked, holding the bowtie out to her. You'd think after a century I could make a bowtie lie flat, but it never looked quite as debonair as when Alice did it. Her quick fingers darted around the satin, tying a perfect knot in a millisecond. She smoothed out the tie, and brushed out the length of my tux, pulling down the bottom of the jacket.

"Perfect," she sighed as she stepped back.

"Are you admiring me or your handiwork?"

She laughed. The sound of silver filled the room. "Both."

"Well, may I take this opportunity to say, then, that you, my darling, are absolutely stunning." I took her hand and spun her once in a slow, graceful twirl. She was absolutely gorgeous. _Breathe_, I thought, _remember to breathe_. Alice wasn't kidding about the gown she had selected for this gala event. It was a one-shouldered Marchesa ball gown of deep wine red. The entire bodice was lace, only covering what decency dictated should be covered down the sides in raw silk. The full skirt was asymmetrical, the side of the unadorned shoulder beginning mid-calf and flowing in elegantly draped gathers past the floor. Even in the gold, crystal-encrusted stilettos she was wearing, the gown still swept the carpet.

"Thank you, Major," she stretched her delicate neck up to kiss my lips, giggling. "I love wearing heels. I barely even have to stand on my tip toes." She handed me the gold bracelet covered with half carat diamonds I had gotten her for her birthday twenty-three years ago. She loved that bracelet. "Could you?"

She held out her dainty wrist, palm up, for me to attach it. I reached around her small porcelain hand and wound the bracelet around her wrist as I kissed the bluish veins that ran up her arm, meeting her eyes with my own. _Breathe, Jasper, breathe_. That red was amazing on her. It made her skin look like buttermilk and her eyes like warm honey. A slight blush was apparent on her delicate cheeks from our recent hunt -- she was practically glowing. Her teeth gleamed as she smiled her breathtaking smile at me. She put her hand on my face as I straightened up, slowly caressing the length from my ear to my chin. I closed my eyes at her touch. How could she still give me butterflies after all these years?

"I love you," she whispered simply. In answer I pulled her close to me, my arms around her waist as she bent back to receive my kiss. Like Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler, I thought, smiling. I pressed my lips to hers, parting her mouth with mine. I knew better than to mess with her hair now, so I simply stroked my hand down the length of her half-bare back. I moved my lips to her ear and brushed them down the side of her neck. Unwilling for our mouths to be parted she put her hand on the back of head, pulling my face back to hers. She kissed my bottom lip as I traced her top lip with my tongue, stroking her face with the backs of my fingers. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Realizing we did actually have things to do, she finally pulled away reluctantly.

"How could I ever hope to deserve you?" I asked in wonder as she pressed her head to my chest. I cradled her in my arms, swaying slightly.

"Sometimes I think you have that backwards," she murmured, closing her eyes in contentment. We stood there for a long moment, just happy to be together, happy to have each other. "Of course," she finally smiled up at me playfully, "Sometimes I think you'll need to get me a few more of _these_ to deserve me!" She turned her braceleted hand back and forth so the diamonds caught the light. I laughed.

"So are we going or what? I thought you had this all timed out..." Emmett called, pushing open our door with his elbow as he fastened a cufflink.

"Knock, knock?" I hinted. He didn't seem concerned.

"Yes, we need to get going. Is everyone ready?"

"Yup, though Rose says you should have the final say on Bella. Rose let her do her own hair."

Alice frowned, but closed her eyes and set her fingers against her temples. "Oh, she'll do. I suppose it's not worth the row--"

"No, it's not!" Bella called from down the hallway. Alice frowned again, shaking her head.

"Well let's get going, then. Almost everyone's already downstairs." Emmett strolled back out our door and sailed lightly down the stairs. Even to vampire hearing he was almost completely noiseless -- not a small feat for someone as huge as Emmett. Rosalie was already waiting, looking beautiful as usual in a violet gown with a corseted top and a flowing train. She always knew how to play up her assets, I thought, more scoffing than admiring. She smiled at Emmett, her lips a deep burgundy, her golden hair in elegant curls down her back, as she took his arm. Everyone was lining up in couples like we really _were_ going to the Prom, ready to walk through the balloon arch to our photographer or something. I smiled. Rosalie and Emmett were closest to the door, though they had left a space for us. Renesmee and Jacob were behind them, flanked by Carmen and Eleazar, Kate and Garrett, Tanya, and finally Carlisle and Esme.

"Bella, c'mon," Jacob called up to her, "You're holding up the party!"

Renesmee grinned.

"Don't they teach you manners in wolf school," Bella grumbled as she appeared at the head of the stairs, still trying to pin a curl into place. She didn't look as "red-carpet" as Alice and Rosalie did, but I still thought she looked beautiful. I had to admit, I hadn't thought much of her as a human. I grew to love her long before she was one of us, but physically I didn't see what Edward was going on about. She looked like any other human girl. Once she had changed, though, I could understand. It was like the venom made it possible for all of us to see what Edward had always seen. She wasn't the men's magazine model that Rosalie was or the graceful prima ballerina that Alice was, but she was undeniably stunning. She wore blue, of course; a bright azure gown that Alice had forced upon her. Alice had a good eye, though, for the dress complimented her perfectly. It was a strapless gown with an empire-waist that flowed simply and loosely to the floor. There was a delicate silver patterned design at the bottom that was accented by the tear-drop diamond and platinum earrings Edward had found once Alice had unveiled the dress.

"Oh, mom!" Renesmee breathed.

"Not bad, Bells," Jacob chuckled, eyeing her appreciatively.

"You are a master of understatement, Jacob Black," Edward's eyes narrowed as he led Bella down the stairs. Bella looked down and I was sure if she could still blush she would have. She hadn't gotten any fonder of the spotlight in the last few years.

"Well, _I'll do_," she repeated, scowling at Alice.

"Oh, you're lovely, you know that. If we could have only done something here, though--" Alice pulled at a strand of Bella's dark mahogany hair, trying to curl it into place. Bella smacked her hand away, mostly playfully. Alice turned to face the assembled family and beamed.

"Okay, then. Ready?"

Fourteen heads nodded in excitement and anticipation. Carlisle and Esme beamed back.

"Then let the Anniversary Gala begin!"

I opened the door for her and she led us out into the frozen Alaskan wilderness, toward the clearing.

* * * *

"Oh, Alice, Edward! All of you! It's amazing!" Esme gushed as we broke through the spruces and into the clearing. Alice and Edward had run ahead when we were a mile away, starting the generator for the Chinese lanterns and stereo system, lighting the countless candles, and beginning the musical piece Edward had selected for the "grand entrance." Esme stood with her hands at her face, her soft pink gown swaying slightly in a light breeze. Carlisle stood with his arm around her waist, silently taking in the scene before him. The sun was just setting, making the frosted snow a rosy pink. The light of the candles and lanterns was also reflected in the snow, turning the clearing into a magical space of light and color and natural wonder.

"And you're playing my song. Oh thank you! It's --" she couldn't finish. I was sure if she could cry she would be now. Even so she seemed choked up.

"This is incredible, children. Thank you." Carlisle said simply.

"It's the least we could do," Edward replied softly. Esme tried to speak again, but she still seemed unable to get the words out. Carlisle put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to him, smiling.

"Now don't get all weepy on us, you'll ruin the rest," Emmett said gruffly. Esme just nodded.

"The gifts will come later, but here's a little prelude. This is my gift." Edward began a CD that I had been told about, but hadn't heard yet. We all stood still for a moment, just listening. It was an intricate piano melody, very sweet and soft at first. Then it thinned out into a sadder, lonelier sound. A solitary leaf floating down a wooded stream. It built up, growing louder, more passionate, full. Like waves crashing on a shoreline. Throughout it all was a sense of timelessness, of need and desire and eternity.

"Edward," Esme whispered. It was all she could manage. Carlisle held her close again but began swaying rhythmically. Slowly they began waltzing around the clearing, dancing to the song of their love, their story in melody. I would be annoyed with Edward's musical prowess if it wasn't just so perfect for the moment. It encapsulated everything I would want to say for Carlisle and Esme. All the wishes I held for them, the gratitude, the affection. Well, I might as well toss my gift into the forest.

"Show off," I heard Emmett grumble. I wanted to nod in agreement, but it was just too beautiful. All I could do was watch in complete happiness as Carlisle and Esme circled the clearing, only seeing each other, the light shining on their faces full of love and happiness and utter bliss. The snow began to fall, just as Alice had predicted, and twilight came upon the gathering.

Edward's song flowed flawlessly into another composition of his, though this one was a duet with Renesmee on the violin.

"Would you care to dance, m'am?" I drawled, presenting an old-fashioned bow.

"Well I do declare! Major Whitlock, you've got me all a'flutter!"

Alice fanned herself with one dainty hand as I reached for her other hand and we began twirling around the clearing too. We were soon joined by Rosalie and Emmett, Eleazar and Carmen, Kate and Garrett, and, somewhat reluctantly, Bella and Edward. Although Bella was just as graceful on the dance floor now as any of us, she still seemed to retain some of her fear of dancing, as though she might trip over her own feet again. She needn't have worried. Edward was an excellent lead anyhow, and they whirled around the snow covered clearing as though they were Gene Kelly and Cid Cerise. It was amazing how lithe and graceful Bella had become, especially compared to her human days...

I noticed Renesmee and Jacob swaying in a corner of the meadow. They weren't twirling like ballroom dancers like the rest of us, but they seemed perfectly content. I doubted either of them noticed whether or not they were moving at all. They really were in love. It was plain to see, but still a little strange. Renesmee was still that cherubic-faced little angel with the long ringlets and pink pout that simply held out her hand when she wanted to speak to you and puckered her brow when things displeased her. She could have turned out quite the little monster, the way we all spoiled her. But instead she was an angel still. A bright beautiful angel that was now a woman. Going to be married. I shook my head to clear the thoughts. No, she'd always be my little girl, just as she would be to all of us. We'd let her go and grow up because that was the right thing to do, but we'd cling to the memory of our child as long as we existed. Our little miracle.

The snow continued to fall, covering the company in a feather-light dusting of white. It was so fine and light that it did little to the flames in the candles, and there was no wind, just as Alice had predicted. The dancing continued for an immeasurable span of time, everyone dancing with everyone. The musical selection was more up-tempo now, not as romantic but more conducive to a family event. I practiced the Schottische with Tanya as Emmett and Alice, looking comically incongruous next to one another, Castle Walked across the width of the clearing. Even Jacob was attempting to waltz with the unerringly patient Esme as Renesmee tried to stifle her giggles from the granite rocks from which she watched.

As the clouds faded to the east and the stars finally became clear, Alice announced it was finally time for speeches and gifts. I passed out champagne flutes as Rosalie filled them (though what vampires who neither ate nor drank were going to do with champagne, I wasn't sure. Alice had insisted, though, that a celebration like this required champagne, and so the Denalis had contributed a bottle of the finest Dom Perignon to the festivities). Alice nodded to Edward to begin.

"Well, I've already given you my gift, but I also wanted to convey to you my deepest gratitude. For finding me, for teaching me, for having patience with me again and again and always treating me like a son. I have always thought of you both as my parents, and I am incredibly lucky that you deemed me worthy to receive such an amazing gift; the example of your love and compassion, your courage and honor, your undying devotion to us all. Of course you know none of us would be here now, as we are, if it weren't for you both. I can never convey the depths of my appreciation for all that you are and all you have given me. I love you both so very much." He raised his glass. All the girls seemed choked up now. I quickly swallowed the lump in my own throat. Damn Edward and his perfect orations! What wasn't he perfect at? "To Carlisle and Esme, two lights in the darkness that unite us into a single flame."

"To Carlisle and Esme," we all raised our glasses. Jacob and Renesmee took a sip. The rest of us just held ours flutes high.

"So who's gonna follow _that_?" Emmett groaned. Edward grinned.

"Such a showoff," Bella smiled, shaking her head.

"Well, I guess I'll have to step up," Alice grimaced, dancing forward with her tiny hands outstretched. Only Alice could "dance" across snow in stilettos and a floor-length gown this gracefully, I thought. Gliding like a wraith. She placed her glass on the table and handed Carlisle the credit card-sized parcel wrapped in stiff champagne-colored paper. Carlisle took it, looking confused. The first time I had seen her gift I had wondered what could possibly fit in a package that small, too.

"Thank you, Alice," he said politely, carefully pulling the edge of the paper back. It was, in fact, a tiny digital picture frame displaying an undiscovered Rembrandt. Though the picture was miniscule, Carlisle and Esme could see it perfectly clearly. It was an image of a young woman, uncannily similar to Esme, standing with her back to the viewer; her kind, heart-shaped face in profile, her flowing green dress trailing out behind her catching the light of an open window or door, her smooth, shiny auburn hair coiled into an elaborate twist that was popular at the time. "It's lovely, Alice," Carlisle murmured. Alice and I grinned. Of course there was more.

"It's just a _photograph_ of the original. The real one's back at home, safe and sound in your study. I wasn't going to risk bringing it along, although finding a place for it in that room was a gift in itself." She smiled broadly, "You have no _idea_ how difficult that picture was to hunt down!"

"Well we certainly appreciate your efforts," Carlisle hugged her, "It's beautiful."

"Thank you, darling," Esme echoed, taking Alice in her arms as well.

"Well, I don't really have a _speech_," Alice continued, shooting a reproachful look at Edward, "but I thought my explanation would express my feelings. You know Rembrandt was around the time of your, um, youth, Carlisle. So I thought that might remind you of home. And she does look quite a bit like Esme, so there's that. But the story that is supposedly associated with the painting is really why I went to so much trouble to find it." She smiled as everyone gave her their full attention. I had heard the tale before, but anything in Alice's beautiful, flowing, silver bell voice was worth listening to a second time.

"As the story goes Rembrandt was having quite a bit of success as a portrait painter, living in a nice house, married to a respectable girl. All of his children died, though, before they were even one year old. First a son, then a daughter, then another daughter. Rembrandt was, of course, heart broken. Finally his fourth child, a son, survived, but not long after his birth Rembrandt's wife died of tuberculosis." Carlisle nodded. Tuberculosis had been a common cause of death in his time.

"They say he sought comfort for a while in the arms of his son's nurse, but that did not end well either. So there he was, heartbroken, lost, still financially stable and professionally respected, but without any real meaning or direction to his life. He went on this way for a while and then one day, as he was driving through the country to visit a friend, his carriage happened to pass a peasant girl on the side of the road walking back home from the market. She was much younger than Rembrandt, but he was immediately arrested by her beauty. He stopped his carriage and asked for her name. Though he was often thought to have been less than, um, virtuous with the opposite sex, the story says that this was a completely pure love. Rembrandt never laid a hand on her. She was betrothed to a nearby farmer and was to be married in a few month's time. Rembrandt asked her if she would like to sit for him and have her portrait painted. Being a demure and chaste girl she cordially refused, doubtless unaware of the fame and prominence of the man before her. She politely bid him farewell and continued on her way.

"When Rembrandt returned home the next day he immediately shut himself up in his studio, not allowing the servants or any of his friends or patrons to see what he was working on. He worked all hours of the day and night, having food and drink left for him outside the door. He could certainly have sold any of his paintings for a handsome price, but a few months later this piece was delivered anonymously to the little peasant girl as a wedding gift. He had painted her from memory -- not in the dirty work clothes in which he had met her, not carrying a basket of chicken and vegetables from the market, dirty calloused hands, tangled dull hair -- but as he had _seen_ her. As a lady.

"After that he seemed to be pulled out of his rut, so to speak. He paid more attention to his new son, he began a relationship with a maid, his painting continued. Though his professional life had not been much touched by his personal tragedy, surely he had been a lost soul, floating through existence like a specter. No real purpose, no real destination. That one chance meeting with that one unlikely woman gave him back his life. That pure love, however fleeting and inexplicable, saved him."

This is exactly as I had always seen Carlisle and Esme's love. Obviously deeper and more lasting than Rembrandt's momentary fixation, but the effects were the same. Esme glanced up at Carlisle, a deep look of understanding in her eyes. She nodded.

"Thank you, Alice. You're right. The story makes this gift all the more exceptional," Carlisle said softly.

Esme looked like she would cry again. She squeezed Alice again and whispered, "Thank you, my sweet girl."

"Well, I don't know if the story is true or not, but it's the thought that counts, right?" Alice asked. I thought she looked a little smug. _Of course_ her gift was perfect.

After a moment of silence Emmett pushed his way through the assembly and pressed an envelope into Carlisle's hand.

"Ok, enough of this gushy stuff. Here's my present." Esme took Alice's gift from Carlisle and held it in her soothing hands. Carlisle smiled at his most boisterous son as he pulled his finger under the edge of the envelope and lifted. He reached inside and pulled out two long pieces of stiff paper. Tickets.

"When Rose and I went to Africa a few years ago we thought you two would love it. It's amazing the space out there, and there's all sorts of fun stuff to hunt--"

"And we have a wildlife guide so you'll know what's endangered and what's overpopulated," Rosalie interjected. Emmett nodded carelessly.

"Yeah. So we thought you could fly into Botswana, Sir Seretse Khama International, and then slowly make your way to Mount Kilimanjaro. Most the tourists take planes to get to the good places through there, so you guys should be fine on foot. Or," he grinned broadly, "You can rent motorcycles. Rosalie and I were going to, but we came back for Bella's birthday..." he trailed off, glancing quickly at me. I immediately looked at the ground as Edward frowned and ground his teeth. We all remembered what had happened at Bella's eighteenth birthday party. It was my weakness that had set the events in motion that led to Edward believing Bella was dead and running to Italy to ask the Volturi to end his life. Leave it to Emmett to bring up something like that now.

"So, anyway, I thought you would enjoy it. And the view from the top of Kilimanjaro is incredible. Especially if you take the Machame trail. You might have to stick to traveling by night, depending on when you go. It's a popular trail. But it's so...gorgeous," Emmett continued quickly. He seemed to get caught up in his own enthusiasm speedily, though, and Carlisle and Esme were eager to keep the conversation flowing. Alice placed a soothing hand on my arm.

"That sounds wonderful!" Esme gushed, giving Emmett a huge hug. He lifted her up off the ground in one of his typical bear hugs.

"We've still never been to the summit of Kilimanjaro. And perhaps we could take a detour to see Amun and Benjamin, if we're so close. Thank you, son," Carlisle smiled. Emmett gave him a rough hug, too, patting Carlisle gruffly on the back.

"Well, mine sort of goes along with Em's," Rosalie said, stepping out from behind Emmett to give her gift. There was a large rectangular gift box tied with an elaborate velvet bow and a flat package about the size and shape of a piece of paper, though perhaps a little thicker, on top. She handed these to Esme. Esme passed Alice's gift back to Carlisle. I rolled my eyes and took both small presents and the abandoned wrapping paper from Carlisle's hands and set them on one of the tables. I placed one of the hummingbird figurines on top so they wouldn't blow away, just in case Alice had overlooked a breeze. Carlisle smiled in thanks.

Esme gracefully pulled the wrapping off the paper-shaped gift first. It was a fancy-looking deep green paper folder with the words _King's Pool Camp_ embossed across the top in looping golden script. Esme opened it and looked inside. There were a number of pages, most with writing, some with photographs.

"It's the best hotel in Botswana," Rosalie explained, beaming, "Well, it's called a 'camp,' because it's open to the outdoors, not a big building like a hotel. It was booked for four months when Emmett and I were there, but we snuck a look inside. It's _gorgeous_! And we got you the honeymoon suite. Of course, the availability's a little limited, but they assured us they would accommodate us the best they could..."

"They'd better for what we paid," Emmett grumbled under his breath. Rosalie elbowed him without taking her eyes off Carlisle and Esme, who politely pretended they hadn't heard him.

"It _looks_ gorgeous," Esme agreed, holding up one of the photographs, "Right on the river? And the animals really come right up to the rooms?"

"Some of them," Emmett grinned, "This elephant popped up right behind Rose on a balcony -- nearly scared her to death!" He guffawed at the memory. I chuckled too. I would have liked to see that.

"Not any more than I scared him," Rosalie retorted sourly. "Nearly woke up the whole place with his trumpeting. We had to jump into the river to avoid being seen--"

"Oh yeah, and you were wearing that white cotton dress--uh!" This time Rosalie had stomped on his foot. I imagined those heels would be sharp enough to make her point, but Emmett grinned, looking unapologetic.

"Well I'm sure it will be wonderful," Carlisle said quickly. He may have more patience with them than the rest of us, but Carlisle knew how ... _distasteful_ we found Emmett and Rosalie's constant allusions to their love life.

"Open the other one," Rose pressed, a glimmer of mischief and anticipation in her eyes. Esme pulled the velvet bow off and pulled off the gift box's lid. I sighed and took the ribbon and lid from her and placed them on the table as well. Esme pushed the silver tissue paper aside and gasped. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling and quickly pulled the tissue paper back over the contents. Not before Carlisle had seen it though.

"Thank you for that, too, Rose. I'm sure we'll, uh, put it to good use." Carlisle took the lid from the table and swiftly replaced it on the box. Esme looked embarrassed, and I was sure if she could blush she would be bright red by now.

"I know lingerie is usually Alice's area, but I couldn't resist," Rosalie giggled, answering the eleven curious faces that were turned to her. Bella, Renesmee, and Jacob looked embarrassed too. It was obvious they had not been living in the same house as the rest of us for very long. Even though I didn't like to think about my parents, or brothers and sisters, in that way, it was a bit inescapable when you were all under one roof. At least Carlisle and Esme tried to be discreet about it. That was much more than I could say for Rosalie and Emmett.

"Well, moving right along then," I cut in quickly, trying to spare Esme as much as I could. "This one's from me."

I handed them a squared velvet jewelry box, about six inches wide. It was an antique, and the faded silver latch and hinges looked a bit shabby. Esme took it curiously and unclasped the latch, folding back the lid to reveal the contents.

"This was my mother's," I said, reaching in and pulling out a silver brooch with a large yellow garnet stone. The brooch was shaped like an elaborate rose, with ornate leaves that curved up around the blossom and a thick stem. The garnet rested inside the heart of the rose.

"A yellow rose of Texas," Esme smiled. I returned her smile as I pinned the brooch to her dress, just below her left collarbone.

"And this one belonged to my father," I continued, pulling out the matching lapel pin. I pinned this one on Carlisle in the same place. "They were married for over fifty years. These were an engagement gift my father bought for them when they were only teenagers. They wore those pins over their hearts every day of their lives for fifty-two years. Even after my father died, my mother continued wearing hers. My great-great-grand-nieces were about to pawn them, but I made them a deal. They had no idea, of course..." I trailed off. I didn't have too many memories of my parents, but every one I did have had those pins in it. I couldn't picture either parent without them. "My father used to say it was so their hearts would always be connected, no matter what. And," I looked at the floor, emotion getting the better of me. Emmett would never let me live it down if my voice broke now, "I consider you both my parents now. I like to think that their hearts and your hearts are connected, too. I love you all."

I raised my eyes again. Perhaps it was a selfish gift, but I liked to think that my old life and my current life were connected. Though my parents were only human, and their love was only a human love, it had been stronger than most. They had married for convenience but somehow they had fallen in love all the same. That was another thing that used to make me believe in fate, maybe believe in it now. How could two people without the free will of choice have worked out so perfectly? There had to be something more guiding their lives. Maybe it had been blind luck, but I didn't think so. Alice and I were proof of that. We hadn't chosen to meet either, but we were undeniably a perfect match. True love. Carlisle hadn't found and courted Esme, she was simply thrown in his path, and that match was perfection. Rosalie and Emmett, Edward and Bella, Renesmee and Jacob -- all these soul mates were simply put in each other's way, and _something_ had caused that. We couldn't all owe our happiness to luck. That thought, the pure inescapability of all our loves, was a part of the gift. My parents were meant to be, Carlisle and Esme were meant to be, Alice and I were meant to be, and, somehow, it all joined together, all connected. Our _family_ was meant to be. The pins symbolized so many things for me: past, present, love, fate, family ... me. I was giving a part of myself to them. I hoped they understood. I knew I couldn't explain it properly in any case, but I certainly wasn't even going to try with Emmett so close by.

"Jasper--" was all Esme could say. I smiled sheepishly at her.

"You like them?" I asked, though I could feel the warmth and overwhelming emotion rolling off of her. She only nodded as she took me in her arms. I knew most of my family viewed me as the "tough one," the warrior. I was usually the practical one, calm and collected, cool. I didn't show my emotions too often, except to Alice. It wasn't that I thought the showing of emotions was somehow ... not masculine. I wasn't the chauvinist Emmett could be. It was just that, as a soldier, you learned to separate yourself from your emotions. Feelings did you no good in battle. They were a weakness, a chink in your armor. When it came down to do or die, to kill or be killed, Jasper the lover, the brother, the son clicked off, and Jasper the soldier turned on. Like a robot, I thought. Like the Terminator -- one track mind. I always felt, somehow, that my family _expected_ me to be the strong one. They looked to me to be calm, collected, and cool. I wouldn't allow them to worry or fear when I could help it. That usually translated to suppressing my emotions in the most difficult times when most people would wear theirs on their sleeves. If I crumbled, so would my family. The least I could do for them all was keep up my end, be what they expected me to be. A rock. I slipped behind the gathering now, hugging Alice close to me. I may be a rock, but sometimes even rocks needed a moment.

Bella came forward shyly, then, to offer her gift. She handed Carlisle another flat, paper-sized present, though this one was obviously thicker and heavier than Rosalie's. She handed Esme a tubular parcel, like a rolled-up poster.

"This is really from Edward too. He picked it out. I figured he would know what you liked better than I would --"

"No, this was all your idea, love. I merely did the leg-work." Edward interrupted.

Bella smiled at her in-laws bashfully. "Well, anyway, I hope you like it."

Carlisle carefully ripped the creamy white paper, almost the same color as his skin, and pulled it back to see the present. It was a picture frame. He looked at it curiously. Bella grinned; we were all about the representative gifts in our family. But really, what could you get people who had lived for a century -- that they didn't already have -- that would fit in a gift bag? The options were limited.

"It's a house! Well, it was a bed and breakfast originally, in the twenties. It's only a couple miles from the house Edward bought in Hanover. I know how you like to remodel things," Bella turned to Esme and motioned to the parcel in her hands, "So I thought this would be a perfect project for you, as we're all moving soon. It was a bit last minute, of course, so I'm not sure if you can get it ready in time for the first semester, but at least we'll have it eventually. Those are the floor plans," she gestured again to Esme's package. Esme's face brightened and she pulled the paper off the cardboard tube. "The rooms are a little small for your tastes now, but Edward thought if we took out a few walls..."

Though the other gifts may have been more emotionally significant, this one certainly evoked the most enthusiasm from Esme. She was practically glowing with excitement as she pulled the blue and white plans from the tube and held them up to look them over.

"Oh, this will be perfect!" She cooed, "Carlisle and I can take this room on the third floor -- it will have a view of the woods, Carlisle-- and Rose and Em can have those corner rooms on the first floor, we'll just need to take out those walls..." She continued her calculations almost breathlessly. I thought quickly that it was very wise planning to put Rosalie and Emmett on the first floor -- no one would have to hear them down there. Carlisle passed around the photograph of the house for everyone to see. It was a large place, slightly bigger than the one we had now. The size was maybe a little extravagant, I thought, if neither Edward and Bella nor Renesmee and Jacob were going to be living there. Still, there was nothing wrong with more room. The place had three stories and looked very much like the historical landmark it probably was. It was a dull, peeling white with ivy climbing up the sides. There was a small porch on the front of the house and huge dark wooden double doors, covered by aristocratic eves. Though the place was clearly rundown and in need of repairs, it still looked elegant, refined. This was the sort of house I would have wanted for Alice, if I had known her when she was human. I could just imagine her there in her drop-waisted, straight dress, a long string of beads around her neck, short-shorn hair cropped in close curls around her face, maybe watching some children play on the lawn from a rocking chair as I leaned against the wall in my pinstriped three-piece suit, twirling my watch chain. Very nineteen-twenties. I squeezed my arms around Alice's waist as I rested my chin on her head. She wrapped her arms around herself and traced her finger down my encircling arms in response.

"More room means a bigger closet," she whispered to me, grinning brightly.

"Oh, no," I sighed dramatically, laughing as I shook my head. When everyone had gotten a look at the future Cullen residence, Renesmee spoke up.

"Well, mine seems kind of small in comparison to everyone else's," she said as she touched her hand to Jacob's cheek and he dashed away into the trees. She used her own gift much less frequently now than she had as a child, but it was still useful. "But I did get it ready just for you. I didn't _record_ it or _compose_ it, like my dad, but..."

Jacob returned with the guitar case Esme and Carlisle had given Renesmee for her birthday. Apparently she and Jacob had stashed it in the woods during our set-up. Renesmee opened the case, took out the guitar, and walked over to sit down on the rocks. We all moved toward her, almost unconsciously, waiting with bated breath to see what she would play. It would probably look silly to outsiders, seeing how intent we were on this insignificant action, but we were all so proud of and engrossed in everything she did. And, I had to admit, I was curious to see how perfect she would be on this newest instrument. She _had_ had it for three weeks now, after all. That was longer than she usually needed to perfect something. To perfect _anything_.

"My dad told me this was one of your favorites, Grandma, from when you and Grandpa first met." She strummed a warm up chord, though I thought that was more for our benefit than hers, and began. I recognized the tune at once. Carlisle would play it for Esme on the antique Victrola every so often. The record was by Henry Burr and the song was entitled "All That I Want Is You." By nowadays' standards the song sounded a little silly -- the quavering tenor voice was certainly not considered fashionable now. But Renesmee had made her own improvements to the song. She had fleshed out the melody and she sang in a clear, beautiful soprano.

Esme and Carlisle stood with their arms around each other, swaying in time to the music, smiling. Esme seemed to be watching Renesmee, but also be seeing things far away and many years ago. This song had been popular in nineteen twenty-three, around the time Esme had been changed. I wasn't sure if the song had been a favorite of hers before or after she had begun her life with Carlisle. It seemed unlikely she would truly remember a song from her human days, but it also seemed improbable that she would have felt ... _controlled_ enough to be listening to music just after her change. Not everyone could be like Bella, after all. Either way, they seemed to truly enjoy the present. Renesmee probably could have juggled some pine cones and we all would have thought it was wonderful, though. There wasn't much that girl could do that we _wouldn't_ think was amazing, I thought. Our little miracle.

I began to straighten up as the song came to what should have been its ending, but to my surprise -- and Carlisle and Esme's -- it continued. Renesmee had added her own verse. It was very sweet. If I hadn't heard the record before, I wouldn't have known the verse did not belong.

"You'll need to record that right away when we get home," Esme insisted, pulling her granddaughter into a tight embrace.

"I didn't think anything could take the place of the original in my heart, but somehow yours does. It was beautiful," Carlisle added, hugging Renesmee next. Renesmee beamed at their appreciation, Bella and Edward beamed in parental pride.

"It's not too hard to improve on the original," Jacob muttered before Renesmee kicked him quietly in the shin.

Finally the Denali clan came forward to offer their gift.

"I have to say, finding something for you two was almost impossible," Tanya said in a melodramatic fashion, gliding from the back of the company where she had been watching Renesmee. "If it weren't for Eleazar's brilliant idea, we would only have had our congratulations to offer you."

"That would have been quite enough," Carlisle assured her. Garrett snorted.

"No, no," Kate grinned, pushing in beside Tanya, almost unaware, to get a better look. "You know we couldn't stand to be completely outdone."

Eleazar and Carmen pressed forward as well, both smiling broadly in anticipation. Tanya held a heavy, ornately carved, wooden box in her arms. It reminded me of the box Aro's wedding present to Bella had come in, though it was not nearly as grand. The wood was darkened with age but it had once been light. Pine? Or maple, maybe?

"Eleazar remembered a story about Katherine of Aragon, Henry VIII's first wife, that was told in his village in Spain. Carmen had never heard it, so, like Alice's story, we're not sure if it's true, but it's a nice story."

"You tell it, _mi corizone_," Carmen said to her mate, pushing him forward lightly. Eleazar looked at Tanya, who nodded encouragingly.

Eleazar began a story about the one-time Queen of England and her servant friend, Sebastian, who became her only real love throughout the years. Although Katherine died having only given herself in body to King Henry, the story was that she only ever gave herself in love to Sebastian. Inspired by the practices of "courtly love" that were popular in England at the time, Sebastian had used his meager savings to purchase a small chunk of marble from a quarryman and then used the battered smith's tools at his disposal to carve a gift for his love. When he had finished, he carved a box to house his gift from the trunk of a beech tree near Katherine's palace in Aragon. He had brought the present to her and offered it as a token of his love and loyalty. As Eleazar's story went, Katherine kept Sebastian's gift in her chambers until the day she died, when she returned it to her only true love to keep in trust. Sebastian died not long after Katherine, and his gift passed out of historic memory -- if anyone had ever really known it existed in the first place.

"There is a small church in the Pyrenees mountains that was said to hold this gift from Sebastian to Katherine," Eleazar explained, "I had heard the tale of true but unrealized love from my childhood, so I knew where the carving was supposed to be. When Alice first told us of the upcoming celebration, I thought of the story. A bit tragic, but the purity of their love, the sheer enduringness of it, the way in which they were never parted, despite the mountains of things in their path -- all these made me think of you two." Eleazar looked from Carlisle and Esme to Carmen. It was clear this story made him think of his love, too. If he had grown up with this tale, it was probably a metaphor or symbol for all the love stories in his experience.

"So this is the actual gift?" Esme asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Carmen chimed in her soft cashmere voice, "or so the monks at the church told us. It was in storage in the basement of the building, covered in three inches of dust. Eleazar felt a little guilty about taking a 'national treasure,' but I'm sure they hardly miss it."

"Besides, you'll take better care of it than they did. A sixteenth-century artifact kept in a damp church basement? I'm surprised it's still in one piece!" Kate added reassuringly. Tanya finally handed the wooden box to Carlisle, a slight dimple showing in her chin as she smiled in anticipation. Carlisle pulled back the plain iron hinge very slowly and folded back the lid of the box.

"Oh!" Everyone gasped in wonder. The marble, like the wood, was darkened with age. It was a bone color, almost yellow. The carving was a flat round disc about two inches thick and about seven inches in diameter. The bass relief showed a castle turret with a beautiful young girl leaning out of it -- Katherine, I assumed, though the image reminded me of Rapunzel -- and a young man clad in simple clothes of the period upon a horse looking up at her. In his outstretched hand he held a folded parchment and the lady held a rose to her breast. Though he was looking straight up at her, she seemed to be looking out the window past him, not seeing. A small figure was at the heels of the horse, but some of the marble had chipped off so it was difficult to tell what it was. It seemed to have four legs and a tail -- a dog maybe? Remembering my artistic symbolism, that made sense. Dogs symbolized fidelity, loyalty. The rose was a symbol of the House of Tudor, but roses also meant many other things -- youth, purity, and love among them. Behind Sebastian on his steed was a swaying beech tree; another symbol? Trees meant the connection between earth and heaven, in a sense the will of God upon man. Or, another way of looking at it, fate. And beech trees might be a symbol of Aragon.

"So that's Sebastian?" Emmett asked, looking over Carlisle's shoulder now. He didn't seem all that impressed. I was sure he'd missed the subtle symbolism in the carving.

The gift was certainly priceless. I wondered fleetingly what Carmen and Eleazar had given the monks to convince them to part with such a treasure. If it was lying forgotten in a basement, maybe a new roof or tax money seemed a more advantageous acquisition than a forgotten tribute to a forgotten love. It _was_ better off with Carlisle and Esme. At least they would appreciate it.

"It's incredible. Thank you, all of you," Carlisle nodded to the Denalis as he continued to hold up the carving for everyone to see. Tanya beamed and exchanged smug glances with Kate. Carmen stroked Eleazar's arm, as if telling him he had done well. Eleazar smiled bashfully.

"Tanya said you'd like it. I'm glad she was right."

"So, that's everyone, right? What's next on the agenda, little sister?" Emmett looked to Alice, seeming bored with the gift-giving now.

"Um, actually, I have something too. Something small," Jacob spoke up, moving to the front of the gathering now, "It's just a little token of my respect and gratitude to you both, for everything you've done for me and for the packs and all..." Jacob trailed off as he pulled a small object from his breast pocket. In the years since the renewal of the Cullen-Quilieute treaty, Carlisle had become the werewolves' doctor of choice. Any problem they had led them straight to our door. Many of the members had even taken to bringing their ill human loved ones to Carlisle; Quil had brought little Claire when she had caught chicken pox and was running a high fever, Jacob had insisted Billy be seen when he had fallen out of his wheelchair and dislocated his shoulder -- even Sam had asked Carlisle to oversee Emily's prenatal care and delivery of their daughter Sarah a few years ago. No one -- well, no doctor anyway -- knew werewolves better than Carlisle did.

Jacob handed his preferred doctor a small object wrapped in a dark woven cloth. Carlisle pulled back the corners to reveal a small wooden figurine. It was a wolf, much like the tiny charm on Bella's bracelet. This one was curled protectively around a small child, though. A child with ringlets and a rounded, cherubic face, holding her hand against the wolf's neck. The detail was incredible. Even with our superhuman eyesight it was hard to find a flaw in the figurine.

"Did you make this, Jacob?" Esme asked in awe.

"Well, yeah. I used a branch from one of the spruces near the house. I thought that would make it more personal, you know?"

"My very own Sebastian," Renesmee chuckled, patting Jacob's arm.

"It's beautiful," Esme breathed. She gave Jacob a tight hug. He no longer recoiled at the touch of our cold skin or the sweet smell of our bodies. He'd gotten used to that long ago -- or at least used to hiding his discomfort.

"Thank you, Jacob. It's a wonderful gift. Nessie looks exactly the same as she did," Carlisle added, also giving Jacob a warm -- figuratively speaking -- embrace.

"Back when she was cute and sweet," he laughed. Renesmee punched him in the kidney, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. Edward, however, ground his teeth.

"Well, _that_ is everyone, isn't it?" Alice asked, looking around the company. Everyone smiled and nodded. "Good. Well, we did have a few other things planned for tonight, so, shall we?"

The night continued with a "reading" from one of Carlisle's favorite poems (though, of course, Rosalie had it memorized), more dancing and music, laughter and reminiscing. It was a wonderful evening. If someone had told me a hundred years ago I would ever have such an evening, such a family, I would have suggested they be committed. Such happiness and contentment and kinship were not something I would have thought I'd know. There just hadn't been anything like this with Maria, maybe not even with my biological family. I couldn't really remember. I did have more happiness than I could ever deserve to have. As if Alice was not enough, I had Renesmee and Carlisle and Esme and Edward and Bella and Emmett -- even Rosalie had a prickly place in my heart. And as if all _that_ were not more than I deserved, we had our extended family, our cousins: Tanya and Kate, now Carmen, Eleazar, and Garrett. No wonder the Volturi resented us. For all their "adoring" followers, they could never hope to have the bonds we had. They could never be a _family_ the way we were. I couldn't imagine many people could.

I saw Edward nodding in agreement, I assumed to my thoughts. I squeezed Alice around the waist and looked down at her elfin face, alight with excitement.

"You did a wonderful job, my dear. Everything was absolutely perfect."

"It was, wasn't it? I'm so glad. That will be us one day," she nodded toward Carlisle and Esme, who were again lost in each other's gaze, oblivious to the rest of the world. "I only hope we can share it like this."

"We will. Of course we will."

"Then again," she grinned up at me. I could see where this was going, "There's something to be said for alone time. I feel the need to 'hunt' again tonight, don't you?"

"Well, I never did get my wolf," I grinned back. Irrepressible Alice. My darling, gorgeous, irreverent, angelic little vixen. I kissed her cheek softly as I breathed in her ear, "How did I ever get so lucky?"

"It's quite the mystery, isn't it?" she giggled, and stood on her tip toes to brush her lips over my left eyebrow. _Breathe, Jasper_, I told myself_. Remember to breathe._


	8. Chapter 8

8. ACCEPTED

THE DRIVE BACK TO FORKS WAS MUCH MORE PLEASANT THAN THE RIDE TO Denali. Everyone seemed wrapped in the euphoria of the wonderful event, and even the "slowness" of the Jeep didn't dampen Emmett's spirits. He had found not one, but two huge irritated grizzlies before we had left -- though the prize of the largest bear had been mine, thanks to Alice. I had nobly allowed Emmett to choose the game anyway, figuring this would brighten his mood without forcing me to throw a match. It had been wrestling, of course, but it was much more fun watching -- and then participating in -- a fight with Garrett than the many matches Emmett and I had at home. I was going to miss Garrett, I thought as I watched the trees whiz by, thickening with the lower altitude. He had assured us he would make a visit with Kate and Tanya soon. I hoped he would. If nothing else, Garrett was entertaining.

When we arrived back at the big white house, Jacob and Renesmee were waiting for us on the porch. I could see Bella, Edward, Carlisle, and Esme in the living room, watching with anticipation. Renesmee jumped to her feet as we exited the car, holding a white envelope in her hand. I glanced to Alice who was trying to suppress a smile. Of course Alice knew. She must have wanted us to be surprised.

"Guess what?" Renesmee could hardly contain herself. I noticed Jacob held a white envelope in his hand too, but he sat on the porch steps still, looking at his shoes. "We got in! All of us! We're going to Dartmouth!" Renesmee cried.

Rosalie ran and threw her arms around her niece. She was probably more excited than Renesmee. Hordes upon hordes of drooling teenage boys to hang on her every movement -- Rosalie would be in heaven. I smiled broadly at Renesmee in congratulations. Of course, we all knew there wasn't much chance we _wouldn't_ get in -- hell, Bella had bet a house on it -- but I supposed it was exciting knowing for sure. Renesmee was certainly excited, and I was excited for her.

"Big Greens!" Rosalie cheered.

"College bound again," Emmett chortled.

"New school clothes," Alice smirked. She meant it as a joke, but we all knew she was dead serious.

I walked over to Jacob. He didn't seem anywhere near as enthusiastic as the rest of the congregation.

"You okay?" I asked quietly, seating myself next to him.

"Yeah, I guess. This is a good thing, I know, it's just..." He looked toward La Push.

"I know. But everyone will be fine. And we'll visit all the time. Every vacation and three-day weekend -- you know we won't be able to keep Bella away from Charlie for long."

Jacob nodded noncommittally and then looked directly into my eyes. "I'll feel better about it after March, too," he said meaningfully. I nodded. The SAT's were in March.

"Better fake it, for now," I advised, looking at the celebrating family, "You don't want to ruin anything for Ness."

"I know. She sure is excited, isn't she? Maybe we should have taken her someplace else a long time ago. Let her experience something new..."

"She has all the time in the world to go someplace new. Really, she only has a handful of years with Charlie."

Jacob nodded thoughtfully. I wasn't sure if he agreed with me or not, but truthfully I couldn't imagine anyone having a better childhood than Renesmee had had. She was almost overwhelmingly loved, she had every necessity and luxury she could want, she was polite and educated and full of spunk... Other than the danger she was put in for merely being born, half human, half vampire, I couldn't see any negatives in her life. She was a charmed child. We couldn't have done much better by her.

I saw Jacob grinning a little too broadly and looked to see Renesmee trotting toward us. She really was ecstatic. I supposed she _had_ been in one place all her life... We'd never really felt the need to travel far after the incident with the Volturi and the question of her rapid growth had been solved. What was there outside Forks that we needed now? But if she was this happy to get out, maybe we _had_ done something wrong, missed some sign.

"I can't wait to look at housing!" she threw herself into Jacob's lap. I glanced away uncomfortably.

"Maybe Esme can help with our place, too," Jacob suggested. Esme immediately appeared in the doorway, her heart-shaped face lit with a thrilled smile.

"Oh, I'd love to! I suppose you won't be able to be too close to us, but really what difference does a few miles make?"

"None at all, " Rosalie interjected, "We can come over to see you _all the time_." She looked pointedly at Jacob. Jacob acted as if he hadn't heard her, then looked at me mischievously. The side of my mouth pulled up in a grin.

"Jasper, do you know what you call a blonde with half a brain?" He raised a dark eyebrow at the scowling Rosalie, "Gifted."

I chuckled as Renesmee coughed to hide her laugh. Rosalie turned and flounced up the steps into the living room, muttering, "_That's_ your new material?" I was pretty sure she hadn't heard it before, though.

Unable to be distracted from her news for long, Renesmee grabbed Jacob's large hand and jumped to her feet, pulling him into the house, too.

"Come on, let's go see what they have available."

The rest of the day was spent in various Dartmouth-related pursuits. Renesmee and Jacob were checking out available houses and apartments online, calling every so often when one particularly caught their fancy. Esme was up in her office with Bella's blueprints spread out, making modifications and additions to the Hanover house. Rosalie and Alice were flipping through a handful of magazines selecting ensembles they thought appropriate for modern college students. Carlisle knew he all but had a place at the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center, but he was revising a letter expressing interest in teaching a course or two at the medical school. Bella had gone to Charlie's to tell him about the news. Edward and Emmett were flipping through the course guide trying to decide on majors. I had already declared myself as a Philosophy major -- it had been a very interesting study before I had left to return to Forks for Edward, after the whole Italy incident -- but I watched over their shoulders, sometimes selecting classes that might be interesting. It was a good thing Hanover was so often cloudy or rainy (not like Forks, but we could never hope to be that lucky anywhere else. It was one reason we had stayed so long) or my options would really be limited. Most the classes I liked were during the daylight hours.

Edward was leaning toward majoring either in Religious Studies or Anthropology. Quite the juxtaposition in majors, but, as Edward pointed out, one did not necessarily negate the other. After all, Anthropology was the study of mankind and all his cultures, including religion. And, as Carlisle had noted, even Charles Darwin had been a very religious man for most of his life, always accepting the existence of God. I wondered why Edward didn't simply double major. It wasn't as though he would have difficulty with the course load.

Emmett's choices, on the other hand, were much less defined. He would jump from one major to the next as an interesting-looking class caught his eye. He bounced from Engineering to Germanic Studies to History. I couldn't help but laugh at the enthusiasm he showed for each new selection, convinced on each page of the course guide that _this_ would be his next major.

Bella, of course, had decided on English, and Alice had decided on Theater with an emphasis in movement and costume design. I could hardly suppress a smile when I thought about my little ballerina on stage pretending to "learn" to move gracefully and with purpose. Those poor little Dartmouth girls -- their self-esteem was about to take a blow.

After reviewing every major there was three times over, Jacob had settled upon Native American Studies. Renesmee had suggested half-heartedly that he might want to branch out and learn something new, but I thought this educational path fit him. Knowing, as he did, that there were more to the tales of the Native Americans than just myth and legend, I was sure Jacob could bring a new perspective to the lectures. His knowledge in this area might even help us all in the future. Who knew that _all_ the tales weren't true?

Renesmee had decided to somewhat follow in her father and grandfather's footsteps and major in Genetics (I was sure her own existence, as well as Jacob's, encouraged this educational pursuit), but after some thought she had decided to double major in English as well, inspired by her mother's interests. Renesmee couldn't wait to tell her mother that they'd be sharing classes. It was a little comical -- how many people attended college alongside their mothers?

Esme, as usual, was not going to go to school but would spend her time at home reconstructing the house. Really, the only members of the family left undeclared were Rosalie and Emmett. I thought Emmett should go with the History major, focusing on combat and warfare. Edward had suggested he try something outside the box (for him), like Sociology or Psychology. I had thought to myself that those studies might help him deal with Rosalie's constant mood swings, and Edward had choked down his cough so loudly he had almost made Emmett suspicious. Rosalie didn't seem too concerned in the selection -- she was more interested in the fall wardrobe than the fall classes.

We were all engrossed in our various occupations when suddenly a huge grin broke across Emmett's face. He laughed so loudly Jacob jumped out of his seat and Esme appeared at the top of the stairs in alarm. Edward tried to frown in disapproval, but he couldn't entirely hide his smirk.

"What is it?" Esme asked worriedly.

"I've got it!" Emmett boomed. He chortled again, vibrating the room with his shaking laughter. "Rose, I've got the perfect major for us!"

We all looked at him curiously. He had a wicked grin on his face when he finally held up the course guide for us to see. The page was opened to almost the very end. As I saw the heading I burst out laughing. Soon Jacob, Renesmee, Alice, and Rosalie's giggles and guffaws chimed in.

"What?" Esme asked again, whooshing down the stairs to be in on the joke. As soon as she saw the page she shook her head, trying, as Edward did, to frown in disapproval.

"Women's and Gender Studies!" Emmett beamed, apparently proud of his selection. The thought of Rosalie -- the epitome of male fantasy -- in a class dedicated to the study and advancement of women's independence and rights would have been offensive if it wasn't just so damned funny. And Emmett! Huge, burly, rough-and-tumble Emmett, raised in the Ozarks in the nineteen thirties when men were the breadwinners and women stayed in the home cooking and taking care of the children... Emmett as a Women's Studies major. My god, the faces on the little Theater girls would be _nothing_ compared to the faces on the Women's Studies students when the swimsuit model and the WWF wrestler walked in arm in arm! I'd be surprised if they could pass a class, even with outstanding work. The professors would hate them!

"Oh, that will be fun!" Rosalie laughed, just as wickedly as her mate. "Can you imagine their _faces_ on the first day of class!"

"Promise me you'll take a camera!" Jacob snickered, directing his comment to Emmett rather than Rosalie. Their camaraderie over Renesmee's present was certainly a thing of the past now. Ah, well.

"Maybe you'll learn a few things," Alice tried to sniff disparagingly. The effect was a little undermined by the twitch in the corners of her mouth.

"Well, I guess that's everyone, then," Edward said quickly, trying to redirect the conversation. I nodded, trying to compose my face. It was hard work.

"And I think we found a place, Dad," Renesmee exclaimed, unable to conceal her excitement. She motioned toward a picture on the computer screen, "It's a little house right off campus. We'll be near all the other college kids -- it's going to be so fun! Look, it's got a porch--" She pulled Edward over to the computer and continued listing the selling points of the little house. It seemed Renesmee was really looking forward to being just an average girl. It was a strange thought. Nessie was so far above average it was hard to imagine why she would want to try to be ordinary. But, I supposed, the rest of us had all had a "normal" human existence at one time -- it must be strange to have _always_ been different. She wasn't a human, she wasn't a vampire, she wasn't a werewolf... Where did she fit in? It must be almost a nice escape for her to just pretend to be like everybody else, to have a _normal_ life for once. If she wanted to pretend she wasn't brilliant, wasn't unbreakable, wasn't an artistic genius, wasn't more breathtaking than the most beautiful sunset ... if she was willing to ignore all the incredible things that made her who she was just so she could _fit in_, it must be very important to her. She must _really_ feel like she didn't belong, _really_ feel like an outsider even among us, the closest friends and family she had. I could feel Jacob and Edward's sadness and guilt, and suddenly it was my own. I understood it. We had all thought we had done everything right by her. It was almost heartbreaking to realize she had never really been happy. That thought stabbed into my chest like the point of a knife. I almost didn't know what to do with myself. I mumbled something about needing air and walked out the backdoor. I was across the lawn and over the stream in half a second, walking brusquely into the woods.

I heard someone following so I slowed down. A little someone, someone graceful and light.

"What's wrong?" Alice asked as she caught up to me and put her hand on my shoulder. I stopped and turned to look at her. I couldn't really put my feelings into words, but I felt just ... terrible.

"Ness," I mumbled. Alice's brow puckered and she put her hand on my face.

"She'll be all right. I suppose no one's really that charmed." Somehow Alice always seemed to know what I was thinking.

"But I always thought she was so ... you know, so happy."

"Well, she is. But you always want what you can't have and she's still young. I think sometimes we forget that she's really only six. She'll come to terms with everything eventually."

"But it's so sad," I said, shaking my head. I couldn't excuse failing the closest thing I had to a child as easily as Alice apparently could.

"Maybe we should have exposed to her to more people, more places," Alice conceded, "But we had our reasons. We've done everything for her we could--"

I shook my head again, about to interrupt.

"Look, Renesmee's life isn't perfect. As hard as every one of us has tried, that's the truth. She was born different. We all see her differences as blessings, and I think most of the time she does too. But it's part of growing up to question the things around you, question who you are, try new things. If she wants to pretend to be Jane Doe College, let her. I'd be willing to bet our tuition that by the time she graduates she'll be grateful for all the things that set her apart."

I looked out into the woods, not wanting to admit the wisdom of Alice's words. Renesmee was just a child, after all. Didn't everyone go through a self-exploratory phase? Wasn't college supposed to be the time to grow personally and branch out? And when I thought about every moment of her life until now -- giving her Esme's silver service to destroy just to keep her occupied, carrying her in our arms or on our backs every second she wanted it, smothering her in gifts and attention and love, being willing to give, at any moment, everything we had -- our very lives, down to the last man and woman -- to keep her safe... We really had done the best we could. There was nothing we could do, any of us, about _what_ she was. And if she didn't exist exactly as she did, well, she just wouldn't be our baby.

I turned back to my little angel. She was right. We had all been amazed by Renesmee's gifts from the beginning. Everything about her seemed perfect to us. But it might take her some time to feel the same way, to realize that she was so much _better_ than "normal." Normal had never been much of a commendation in our family. But if you had never felt like you _belonged_ anywhere, normal would seem like exactly what you wanted. She would understand, someday. Alice was right. Someday she would see herself as we all saw her. A miracle. Perfection. Amazing. I felt a little better.

"Thank you," I whispered softly as I pulled Alice close to me.

"Everything will be fine, you'll see," she answered as she pressed her head to my torso. I raised an eyebrow at her. She couldn't _know_ that, could she? After all, she couldn't see Renesmee's future. She shook her head lightly, "I don't need to be able to see her. I do know _some_ things without looking ahead."

She smiled up at me and my chest expanded with relief, hope, love.

"Ok." I said softly as I pressed my lips to her forehead. Sometimes it seemed like Alice had everybody's gifts, not just her own. She seemed to read my mind like Edward, and now she had the power to calm and put me at peace, like I would. Talented girl, I thought as I stroked her choppy hair. _My_ girl.

Yes, it would all be okay. At least Renesmee was safe and healthy. She had decades and decades before her to work out any despondence or melancholy. And we'd all be here to help her and support her. She'd marry Jacob, attend college -- maybe many times -- and we would all be around to remind her what an incredible creation she was. It would work out. Suddenly, I couldn't wait for her wedding. The first step toward making her as completely happy as I had always thought she'd been. As happy as she deserved to be. Alice seemed to realize I was over the worst of my worries. She leaned her head against my arm as we walked deeper into the woods.


	9. Chapter 9

9. DOWN THE AISLE

"OH, I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! MY LITTLE GIRL!" ROSALIE GUSHED AS SHE STOOD back to admire her and Alice's handiwork. Bella shook her head, but she seemed unable to speak or to manage even the slightest chagrin on this occasion.

"What do you think, Mom?" Renesmee asked shyly as she looked over her shoulder at her mother's reflection in the huge guilt-framed mirror.

Bella could only hug her daughter tightly around the shoulders. With the jumble of emotions she was feeling I was surprised she could manage that. I knew just how she felt, though. Renesmee stood in the bedroom (Edward's old room -- she had adopted it as her own for the nights she chose to stay at the big house instead of at Bella and Edward's cottage, which was more and more often as she got older. Though she loved her parents and wanted to be near them, I thought she probably wanted to give Bella and Edward their privacy. Besides, Edward's room was already sound-proofed for his music, so it was a convenient place for the only sleep-requiring person in a houseful of active vampires), clad in the elegantly simple white dress Alice had, of course, picked out. There were layers of tulle and some sophisticated beading on the fitted bodice, but other than that the dress was unadorned. There was no fancy train, no big poofed sleeves, no ropes of pearls. Just as Bella's wedding dress had fit the man she was pledging her life to, so Renesmee's dress suited Jacob. Simple but beautiful. Modern, but with a subtle hint of traditional style. The full tulle skirt just brushed her ankles and the thin satin straps were perfect, I thought, for a June wedding on the beach. It would be overcast (Alice had checked over and over again -- she was certain the only sunlight to break through the cloud cover would be shining off the shore over the ocean), as it usually was here in June. The weather would be warm nonetheless, almost muggy for the humans.

"Now don't mess up her hair, Bella," Alice chided sternly, readjusting a flower. Continuing with the simple, natural, feel of Renesmee and Jacob, Alice had adorned the bride-to-be's hair only with jasmine. Rosalie had brushed out Renesmee's usually tight ringlets so that they were now a cascade of loose curls -- Ness had insisted her hair be down because Jacob preferred it that way. In truth, so did I. She looked way too grown up when she wore her hair up -- the maturity in her appearance now was almost more than I could bear. The bronze hair, the creamy skin, the rose flush to her cheeks, eyes the color of melted chocolate alight with excitement -- she truly was the best parts of Bella and Edward. She was beautiful. A woman. I was so happy for her, but still, this was _so_ odd. I'd had about nine months to prepare myself for this day, but I didn't think another century would have made me ready to see my baby as a _bride_, and marrying _Jacob_ of all people. Not that Jacob wasn't going to make a terrific husband, it was just ... _strange_. He had been madly in love with Bella, certainly pictured this day _with Bella_. He had known Nessie since the moment she was born; he had been her babysitter, her playmate, her play_thing_... It was just too weird that now he would be her _husband_. Weird, but somehow also perfectly ... right. And that made it even weirder. Still, looking at Renesmee there, flushed with excitement, exuding happiness from every facet of her being ... it was hard to feel anything _but_ happiness. At first I couldn't tell if they were her feelings or my own, but I decided they must be both. This is what she wanted, Jacob would take care of her. And, I reminded myself, this is what I wanted for her, what would make her happiest. They _were_ perfect together -- how could I not be happy for her?

"You look gorgeous, Ness," I breathed from the doorway. Alice raised an eyebrow, questioning my presence. "Um, the car's here. Edward's ready."

Renesmee and Bella nodded, Bella's arms still tight around her daughter's waist. She looked up at her baby again. My baby.

"I wish Renee could have been here. I wish she...she..." Bella bit her lip. The only mark of sadness upon this day was Bella's longing for her own mother. Renee had never been allowed to know about Renesmee's birth -- Bella was sure it would put her in too much danger. Charlie's reaction to our existence, and his granddaughter's, had been better than we could have ever hoped for. Bella was certain she would not be so lucky twice. She had kept Renee in the dark, and it killed her to do so. She wanted so much to tell her mother how blissfully happy she was; how she was going to spend eternity with her soulmate; how she had a supportive family she would also be with forever; how she even surpassed everyone's wildest dreams and had a child of her own, who was now healthy and grown and wedding her best friend. I knew leaving Renee clueless about the most important details of her life had been an immense sacrifice for Bella. She always felt a pang of sadness and guilt when she thought of her mother. But she was sure it was better this way. Renee was blissfully unaware of anything supernatural in the world, living out her days in Florida with her husband. She had been rather hurt and even angry as the months and then years passed by with nothing more than phone calls or e-mails or the occasional doctored photo from Bella, but now she seemed resigned to the absence of her only child. She must be able to tell that Bella was healthy and happy, and apparently that was enough for her.

"I know, " Renesmee breathed, "Maybe someday..." She trailed off. The odds of it ever being safe enough to tell Renee the truth about our lives were not very good. I wouldn't bet the three Cuisinarts Alice had foreseen in the gift pile on it.

Bella nodded noncommittally, then, with some effort, composed herself.

"Well, my little nudger, are you ready to become Mrs. Black?"

Renesmee's face lit up, her smile almost blinding. No, nothing but happiness today.

"Do we have everything?" Rosalie asked, grabbing her own bouquet.

"Something old," Alice touched the antique silver locket Bella had given her daughter for her first Christmas, "Something new," she indicated the dress, "Something borrowed -- are you sure you don't want my garter? You're mother wore it on her wedding, you know."

Renesmee blushed, "Yeah, I know. My dad took it off with his teeth. And you've worn it too with Uncle Jasper... I'm good."

I chuckled softly as Alice frowned.

"But _that_ is hardly the most appropriate --"

"I like it," Renesmee insisted, fingering the charm bracelet around her wrist. It was the bracelet Jacob had given Bella with his carved wolf charm and Edward's diamond heart pendant, "It's got a piece of the three most important people in my life." She looked at her mother, who smiled and hugged her tightly again. A honk sounded from the driveway. Emmett, I thought. Edward would have considered it very poor manners to honk. Alice sighed in dramatic resignation.

"Fine, fine. So something old, something new, something borrowed," she grimaced, "and..." She looked conspiratorially at Rosalie, who was grinning broadly.

"Something blue!" Rose said, pulling a velvet jewelry case from behind her back. Where she had been hiding it, I had no idea. Rosalie and Alice were quite ingenious when it came to their surprises. She handed the box to Renesmee who looked as though she were going to argue, but smiled brightly instead. It seemed that nothing could bring her anything other than complete happiness today.

"I should have known you'd try to spoil me more," she sighed, her perfect pink lips curving in a smile. She opened the box and delicately touched the bejeweled earrings inside. "Oh! Are they ... real?" She asked breathlessly.

"Of course!" Rosalie replied in mock offense. "We wouldn't let you get married in costume jewelry, would we?"

"One hundred percent platinum and natural sapphire. Quite a good cut, too." Alice added, pulling the earrings from the case and clipping them to Renesmee's ears (being born with skin as impenetrable as stone, we had never figured out how to pierce them). The horn honked again. "Rose," Alice said through gritted teeth, "Can you please tell Emmett to settle down. I know patience isn't his strong suit, but this is Renesmee's day."

Rose nodded. She seemed almost as annoyed as Alice.

"Well, I think that does it," Alice sighed in contentment as she stood back to look over Renesmee again.

"Thank you Aunt Alice! Can I say 'I look beautiful' without sounding arrogant? You know I owe it all to you, of course."

Bella and I rolled our eyes. Renesmee could wear a paper bag and look stunning. But Alice accepted the compliment with delight and, unable to retain her businesslike facade, threw her tiny arms around Renesmee's waist too.

"Oh, Ness, I just can't believe it! Grown up and getting married! Oh!" She choked on the words. Another day of almost-tears and overwhelming emotions. Emmett was going to love this.

I grabbed Alice, Bella, and Renesmee's bouquets from the counter, hinting for us to get going. Emmet was honking for a reason, after all. We were going to be late. Alice understood and nodded as she pulled away from our niece and straightened herself up.

"All right. Let's go."

She waited for Bella and Renesmee, arms linked, to head out the door and down the stairs before linking her arm in mine.

"I know it's Renesmee's day," I said, kissing the top of her head, "but you look beautiful, too." As a bridesmaid Alice, Rosalie, and even Bella (Renesmee had insisted that Bella be her matron of honor, as she considered her her best friend. It was rather unorthodox, but it was very sweet. And really, what _was_ orthodox about the vampire's daughter marrying the werewolf?) all wore matching tea-length gowns in a pale sunny yellow. The color reminded me of Easter chicks, very warm and soft. It was perhaps a bit pale for vampires' skin, but with a little blush and the warm topaz jewelry Alice had accented all three women with, they looked like sunny daisies or golden rays of sunlight. It would take a lot to make Alice -- or Rose or Bella, for that matter -- look less than breathtaking.

Alice smiled up at me as we descended the stairs.

"I just can't believe it," she repeated, "Wasn't it, like, _yesterday_ that she was right here bending spoons and ordering us around with her thoughts?" She smiled, indicating the living room. It was true. There was the small divot in the hardwood floor where Renesmee had thrown Esme's silverware; there was the couch where we all held her and adhered to her every whim; there was the window where she would wait, impatiently, for Bella to return from wherever she had gone. The baby with the bronze curls and chubby little hands, held out in command. Our little girl.

"I know," Alice patted my arm, consoling me now. I swallowed hard before we walked out the front door and Emmett could see me.

Edward was pushing the mass of Renesmee's tulle into the backseat of the car before carefully closing the door. Bella sat in the passenger's seat of the vintage nineteen fifty-eight Silver Cloud Rolls Royce Edward had, of course, bought for the occasion. She was turned around in her chair adjusting her daughter's dress, trying to spread it out across the seat and lay it flat. As Edward walked around the front of the car I caught a glimpse of his face -- a very familiar look. I had seen it on every one of our faces today. Sadness, loss, pride, happiness, all mixed together with a touch of awkwardness and self-sacrifice. He grimaced as he saw his own face in my thoughts and tried to rearrange his features so that they reflected only the happiness. It was difficult for him. He _was_ happy, I could feel it, but in less than an hour Renesmee would cease to belong to him and would forevermore belong to another man. That had to be devastating, even if it was in her best interests. I was upset, and she wasn't even my daughter. Technically.

Edward climbed into the Rolls Royce and started the engine. I had to say, Rose had done a good job. It purred like a kitten. Alice and I walked to Rosalie's M3 (the new Z4 Roadster didn't have back seats) and got in. The top was up -- a specification of the girls' so as not to "ruin their hair."

"Finally," Emmett grumbled as the engine revved quietly to life.

"Not today, baby," Rosalie replied, putting a soothing hand on his burly forearm. Sometimes I wondered how Emmett found suits at all. He was a gorilla.

Thankfully, Alice bit her tongue so I held back on the calm I was considering dispensing.

Carlisle and Esme were already at La Push and so our little caravan sped quickly toward the Quilieute reservation. Alice had directed the brawny werewolves that morning in the erection of the platform and arch for the ceremony, the small collection of folding chairs for the guests, and the placement of the may-pole-esqe pillars. She hadn't trusted them with the actual decorating, though, so with Rosalie's help she had entwined muted yellow and cream ribbons and garlands upon garlands of jasmine, soft gold royal lilies, St. Bernard's lilies, and pale yellow freesia throughout the ceremonial arch and around the poles, spaced every five feet or so from the arch to the back row of the chairs. It was all very summery -- very light and warm and cheerful and simple. Very natural. Very Renesmee and Jacob.

We arrived at Billy Black's house in a matter of minutes. It felt very strange to be on Quilieute land, like I was breaking a law or something. I had never set foot past the loosely-defined no-man's land before, as Alice and I had joined the Cullen family after the treaty with Ephraim Black had been struck, and I had never had a legitimate reason -- or desire, for that matter -- to venture across the line as Carlisle had for his doctor's visits, or Edward had as Carlisle's accompaniment and the object of Jacob's imprinting's father. Sam had graciously agreed to renegotiate the treaty line for the event, and I tried to quell the unease I felt, reminding myself that we were all on the same side now -- for today at the very least.

Edward and Emmett dexterously positioned the cars into the tiny spaces allotted to us in front of the tiny red house. Jacob was already at First Beach, standing under the arch, I imagined, maybe greeting some guests. Billy was gone, too, so only Charlie and Sue were at his house to receive us. Emmett parked the car in front of the tiny house and the four of us climbed out. Charlie already had Renesmee in his arms and was gruffly trying to express how beautiful she looked. His emotions were very strong, but he never seemed able to get the words out. Charlie and I had something in common, after all.

"I'll see you down there," Alice crooned, standing on her tiptoes to quickly kiss my lips before turning to the bridal party. Rose and Emmett kissed too -- not as embarrassing a display as they were usually prone to -- and Emmett and I turned and began the trek down to the beach. I had no idea who was aware of what we were and who wasn't, so I didn't risk moving at more than human speed.

"How weird is all of this?" Emmett asked as we trudged down the dirt road. "I mean, wasn't she a baby, like, yesterday?"

I chuckled. "That's exactly what Alice said."

"But it's strange, right? I mean, she's only six and he's, well, he's _Jacob_. Not only that, but he's a werewolf. Not only _that_, but he's an _alpha_ werewolf. He's sworn to destroy our kind, and here is, marrying one instead. It's weird."

"Yeah, weird," I agreed, running a hand through my blond mane absently, then I added, "He's not a _real_ werewolf, though. And she's not a full vampire..."

Emmett rolled his eyes. "Still. Weird."

I shrugged. If Jacob made her happy I didn't care if he was an alien with five heads. As long as he protected her and gave her joy, what else could I ask for? Strange as it was, they were good together. They were meant to be. That _was_ weird, but it was true, nonetheless.

Jared greeted us as we arrived at First Beach. The parking lot had been transformed into the most beautiful enclosure of flowers and ribbons, the salty breeze blowing the scent of the freesia and jasmine toward us -- which was good, as it helped to dilute the enticing smell of the humans and the foul smell of the werewolves. Even so, I felt the burn in my throat as the wind blew numerous human scents toward me. I stopped breathing, just in case. I had hunted last night, but wouldn't it be just my luck to do something weak and stupid on Renesmee's _wedding day_. I wouldn't risk it.

We followed Jared to the second row of chairs on the bride's side. The seats were almost full -- we were barely on time, after all. Carlisle and Esme were already there in the front row, and they turned to smile at us as we sat down. Tanya, Kate, Garrett, Eleazar, and Carmen were also seated in the second row. We exchanged smiles and hand squeezes as we sat. The Denali clan had arrived late last night, so we had already had our hugs and small talk and catching up.

Jacob was under the arch, as I had thought, Seth at his side. Old Quil Ateara -- I recognized him immediately by his extreme age -- stood directly under the center of the arch. Since neither Renesmee or Jacob were particularly religious, they had decided to have a Quilieute elder preside over the ceremony instead of a minister. I noticed Embry, Quil, and Paul ushering in guests as well. It made me slightly nervous to be deprived of the sense of smell and taste with so many werewolves around. As I involuntarily tensed I tried to remind myself that they were friends now. There was no need to be worried. They were probably just as loathe to ruin Renesmee's day as I was, though in their case it would be more for Jacob's sake than Ness'.

I didn't see Billy or Sam Uley anywhere yet, though I exchanged a polite smile with Emily Uley, carrying their daughter Sarah on her hip. As I turned back to the arch Seth waved at us, grinning from ear to ear. He would be about twenty-one or so now, I thought. He still looked fifteen. Had to love that kid, though. He was just so damned _positive_. I liked being around him, and I couldn't help grinning back.

Guests continued to file in and I gulped deep breaths of safe air when the wind shifted. Emmett laughed at me under his breath and I glared at the ocean -- I hated feeling weak. Esme patted my arm sympathetically.

Finally Charlie and Sue arrived and found their seats next to Carlisle and Esme. Claire, the little girl Quil had imprinted on, began playing an unfamiliar but classical-sounding tune on a violin from the back of the assembly. She could only be eight or nine now, but she was quite good for a child that age. Everyone turned to watch the entrances.

First came little Sarah Uley with a basket of jasmine and lily petals, throwing them rather forcefully in great handfuls. There was a ripple of laughter through the crowd. She was soon followed by a little girl with jet black hair and Jacob's nose -- Jacob's niece Michelle, I assumed. She threw her petals slightly more delicately, at least spreading them relatively evenly over the satiny aisle. Then came Billy, pushed by Sam, who positioned his chair in the empty space in the front row on the groom's side. Billy was beaming. Sam sat down in the chair next to him, with Emily on his left and Jacob's sisters, Rebecca and Rachel next to her. I thought fleetingly that it was rather odd that Sam Uley had a more intimate position than Jacob's own sisters. Well, the pack hierarchy would take precedent, I supposed. From a military perspective I understood it, but it seemed slightly strange that it extended into their personal lives as well.

Alice's scent pulled me from my reverie, and I watched as my tiny ballerina fairly danced down the satin walkway, more graceful and weightless than a feather on this breeze. She winked at me as she passed by and took her place on the left side of the arch, about ten feet from Old Quil. Rosalie came next, smiling but looking as though she would sob if she were able. She kept dabbing at her eyes as she held her bouquet in her other hand. In this case, I didn't think this was a pretense. Although she couldn't actually cry, it was a rather uncomfortable feeling having your eyes prick with unsheddable tears. I hated to admit it, but I knew how it felt. Rosalie took her place next to Alice, nearer to the center of the arch.

Claire's tune continued as it built to a crescendo and Bella appeared. If Rosalie's unshed tears were causing her discomfort, it was nothing compared to Bella's. She couldn't stop smiling, and yet, it seemed as though she couldn't see clearly, and she kept sniffling. As she neared the arch she seemed to lose her composure and she ran and threw her arms around Jacob. Chuckles escaped from the crowd, though many looked confused. I was sure a number of the guests did not know Bella and Renesmee's relationship -- who would believe it? -- nor did they understand Bella and Jacob's. Bella smiled apologetically at her best friend and almost-son-in-law and took her place beside Rosalie.

Finally Claire's melody changed into an intricate solo-version of the wedding march. She really was quite talented. Everybody stood and turned to look. Charlie was already wiping his eyes, and Jacob seemed glued to the back of the reception. As my eyes found her -- my little girl, my baby -- everything else around me was gone. I didn't worry about the humans or the werewolves or the jokes Emmett might make. I was glued too. Even though I had seen her not twenty minutes ago, I couldn't believe my eyes. Renesmee was absolutely stunning. Amazing. She was positively glowing with happiness as she met Jacob's eyes and glided, almost on air, toward her husband-to-be. Edward was still feeling a little sad and a little noble, but he seemed to have given himself over to happiness now. It was almost impossible _not_ to be happy -- Renesmee was enveloping the gathering in it, better than even I could have done. This happiness was so pure and complete that any thoughts I had of weirdness or worries or loss were eradicated, completely overtaken by joy.

Edward led his only daughter down the aisle. Bella was biting her lip to keep her emotions from spilling over. Edward stepped upon the raised platform where the arch and Old Quil and the wedding party stood, and kissed his child on the cheek. There was such love and depth in that kiss that Renesmee did start to cry. Alice frowned -- concerned about her makeup, no doubt -- but Renesmee just wiped away the tears and hugged her father close, touching her hand to his cheek. I was sure most the human attendees thought she was simply too overcome to speak, but I knew she was conveying something deeply personal to her father in her own special way. Edward's reacting emotions almost overwhelmed me, and suddenly I felt a lump in my own throat. A part of me waited for Emmett's teasing jibe or elbow, but none came. I spared a split-second look at him and saw, to my amazement, that he was swallowing and rubbing at his eyes too.

Edward slowly reached for Jacob's huge hand and, gracefully, meaningfully, placed Renesmee's small creamy hand inside. He kissed them both on the cheek, tried to smile at Bella, and then turned and took his seat near the aisle next to Carlisle. Emmett patted him roughly on the back and he nodded.

The ceremony was, as predicted, not traditional. There were mentions of spirits and fate and some allusions to magic, but there was no mention of God or heaven or death. Jacob wouldn't die until Renesmee did, and with any luck -- well, with everything in our power, actually; luck had nothing to do with it -- Renesmee would live out eternity with the rest of us. There was quite a lot of talk about love and everlasting commitment and honoring one's vows. It was enough to make all of us rub furtively at our eyes. Finally Old Quil's wrinkled hand motioned to Seth.

"Do you have the rings?"

Seth pulled two golden bands from his jacket pocket and handed them to Old Quil. Quil handed the more sparkly of the two -- Renesmee's diamond and surrounding emeralds caught the streaming light and sparkled like the sunshine off the ocean waves beyond the arch -- and placed it in Jacob's hand.

"Do you, Jacob, take Renesmee as your wife; to love, honor, and protect; binding your spirits as one for all time?"

Jacob's eyes were cemented on Renesmee's as he slid the ring onto her thin finger.

"I do."

Quil turned to Renesmee, giving her the other ring.

"Do you, Renesmee, take Jacob as your husband; to love, honor, and protect; binding your spirits as one for all time?"

Renesmee choked a little, though she couldn't contain her beatific smile.

"I do," she breathed.

"Then, with your friends and families gathered here as witness, I now pronounce you man and wife! You may kiss the bride!"

Cheers erupted from the gathering at the announcement, and, though I couldn't help flinching a little, I smiled in joy as Jacob took Renesmee in his arms and kissed her strongly, passionately, triumphantly. Renesmee seemed too overjoyed to even mind the throat-clearing and titters from the assembly as she tightened her arms around Jacob's neck and pressed herself as close to him as humanly -- or even inhumanly -- possible. Some of the elder guests looked away in embarrassment, but the werewolves, and Emmett, cheered raucously as the wedding kiss continued for a full minute. Just as I was wondering how much longer they could survive without air -- _they_ did need to breath, after all -- Renesmee pulled her face away from her husband's, though her body remained close, and turned to face her guests. Euphoria enveloped every last man, woman, child, werewolf, and vampire as the blinding smile flashed our way and the intense light of pure bliss lit her eyes. It was impossible not to feel one hundred percent happy. _I should start frequenting the wedding circuit,_ I thought to myself, as my body filled and lightened with the enraptured emotions. I couldn't imagine _everyone_ could be this happy, though. I sighed happily. My baby. Mrs. Renesmee Black.


	10. Chapter 10

10. CHANGE OF PLANS

AFTER A BRIEF INTERLUDE IN WHICH THE GUESTS MILLED AND EXCHANGED pleasantries while the wolf-workers, under Alice's direction, rearranged the chairs, brought the tables, and laid the transportable dance floor, everyone reconvened for dinner and dancing. We, of course, didn't eat, but no one seemed to notice -- or maybe they just didn't care. It seemed that most of the Quilieute and some of the Makah and Ho reservation filtered through the reception before the evening was over. There were certainly more guests than had been formally invited.

There were the traditional "first-dance" and "father-daughter" dance, the "money dance" that Billy had insisted on (I thought mostly so he could watch his son squirm -- seeing Quil, Embry, and Seth seductively placing dollar bills in Jacob's pants was certainly priceless), and even a performance of a traditional Quilieute wedding dance presented by seven children from the Quilieute Tribal School. The sun set, fires were lighted, and still the party showed no signs of slowing down. Eventually, as the moon was high in the black sky (and with the hint that Jacob and Renesmee would need _some_ rest before their plane left for Paris at six o'clock in the morning -- though Alice and I would be riding to the airport with them to catch our own flight to Cancun, we, of course, needed no time to recuperate), the gathering began to dwindle. Finally, when mostly only family remained, Alice urged Ness and Jacob to open their gifts. Renesmee was all for waiting until they returned from their honeymoon to unwrap presents, but Alice was not to be deterred.

After a handful of the usual china sets and silverware and coffee-makers, Jacob hefted a large package that seemed very heavy, even for him.

"For Pete's sake! It feels like someone got us matching bowling balls!" He grunted as he set the gift down in front of his wife.

"Maybe it's those dumbbells I got -- you look like you could use a workout," Quil snickered. Jacob punched him in the shoulder.

Renesmee rolled her eyes, still smiling, as she pulled off the very thick, very expensive-looking wrapping paper. We all stared, dumbfounded. A chill of fear went through me, though I hoped I was overreacting.

"What is it?" Billy asked, craning his neck to see around his son.

Renesmee pulled the paper off the rest of the way to reveal the cumbersome gift. It was a rectangular-shaped box about two feet high, made out of some sort of heavy metal -- it looked like iron -- with solid grommets along the seams. It was etched with an intricate design on every side, the lines of the engraving shining brighter in the fire and lamplight than the dull silver of the rest of the box. The lid was shut with a simple -- but serious-looking -- latch and an ancient lock. It looked like something you would find in a sunken ship ... or a damp castle dungeon somewhere. Taped to the back of the box was an old-fashioned iron key, as long as Renesmee's hand. She held it up, a puzzled look on her face.

"What is it?" Jacob repeated. I could feel fury rising in Edward, and I could see that Bella's face had gone even whiter than usual.

"Who is it from?" Edward asked through gritted teeth. Renesmee mulled through the paper, searching for a card or a tag.

"It doesn't say. What's the matter, Dad?" She looked worried.

"Nothing, I hope." Edward replied, his teeth still clenched. The chill rippled through my body again, this time colder and stronger. I had an idea where such an ancient box would come from, and it wasn't good.

"Should we open it?" Jacob asked, alarmed by Edward's reaction. Apparently the thought that was turning all of us to icy statues had not occurred to him yet. Edward hesitated, then nodded once. I realized all the guests who didn't need air had stopped breathing -- even some of those who did seemed to be holding their breath, anxious and frightened by our strange response to the even stranger gift. The gathering had gone from light and happy to worried and tense in a split-second.

Renesmee slowly took the long key and pushed it into the archaic lock. She turned, and with a loud "click" the fixture popped. After a quick look at Edward, Renesmee reached for the lock and pulled it from the latch. She hesitated a moment, then lifted the fastening.

"No, I'll do it," Jacob interrupted, gently brushing her hand aside. Although I was certain the contents of the box could portend nothing good, I was equally certain there was nothing inside that would actually harm Renesmee.

Jacob lifted the latch and slowly, as though poisonous snakes were waiting inside to strike, lifted the lid. We all stared inside. Jacob placed his strong hands in and pulled out a huge metal goblet, inlaid with rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires.

"What is it?" Billy asked again, staring blankly at the immense chalice. Like the box, it was etched all over with an intricate design. It looked almost like symbols or runes from a forgotten language. Sarah Uley reached out her hand as if to touch the priceless object, though she was five feet away. Emily pulled her hand back, as though the goblet might electrocute her.

"There's something in here," Renesmee said, leaning over the box and extracting a stiff paper envelope, the kind high-priced lawyers sent their Thank You cards in. On the back, penned in elegant calligraphy, was the word "Renesmee." Renesmee looked at her father again, puzzled and half-frightened. Edward nodded for her to open it. She pulled another expensive sheet from the envelope, read it carefully once, twice, then held it up for us to see.

_Deepest congratulations, dearest Renesmee! We were_

_ overjoyed to learn of your nuptials to the shapeshifter _

_ Jacob. An unusual pairing, to be sure, but one which _

_ we hope brings you and your family all the joy and happiness _

_ in the world. We so look forward to seeing you and your _

_ new husband, and hope you will honor us with a visit soon. _

_ Our greatest wishes for you on this wonderful occasion, and _

_ a fond and belated greeting to your lovely family. Molto _

_ felicita, caro una!_

_ -Aro_

"What does it mean?" Bella asked in a whisper, clutching Edward's arm in a vice-like grip.

"I don't know." Edward nearly hissed, "Carlisle?"

Carlisle shook his head, "It's much like your gift, Bella. You don't think they want to check up on Renesmee, do you?"

"But why?" Esme gasped, her hand around her throat.

"They wouldn't have changed their minds, would they?" Bella asked, barely speaking the words.

"Why would they? They decided Renesmee was no threat to them," Emmett replied angrily, already tensing for a battle.

"Maybe they discovered something in South America, something that made them change their minds..." Rosalie breathed, horrorstruck.

"No!" Bella shrieked, throwing herself protectively over her daughter, as though she could shield her from the possible threat of the Volturi.

Edward whirled to face Alice, who was standing frozen, just as terrified as everyone else. "What does it mean, Alice? Why didn't you see this--"

Alice shook her head swiftly, as though she could shake out the memory of what had just occurred.

"I -- I don't know -- I wasn't looking -- I didn't even think to watch out for them -- I was so excited for the wedding and my anniversary, and it's been so long! Years and years and _nothing_, not even a shimmer of a plan. I -- I --"

Edward took a deep breath to calm himself. "Look now," he ordered. I glared at him as I stepped to Alice's side and put my hands upon her shoulders. This was hardly her fault.

Alice closed her eyes and her face went slack. A minute passed. Two. Bella was still holding Renesmee tightly as they watched Alice in breathless silence. Jacob was at Renesmee's side now, too, crouched with his arm around them both. Edward concentrated on Alice's thoughts, trying to pull any visions that might be useful. Suddenly he gasped and Alice's eyes flew open.

"I don't think that's what they have planned for her," Alice assured him quickly. "See, Aro's just giving Caius his way for now. They just want to see what she's become."

"What don't they have planned for her?" Jacob and Bella demanded at the same time.

"They took Nahuel's father, Joham. They talked with him for days about his daughters and his purpose in creating half-vampire offspring. They..." Alice looked pleadingly at Edward.

"They decided he should be ... punished." Edward said in a flat tone. I sucked in a gasp of air.

"But I don't think they plan to hurt Ness," Alice added swiftly, "They let Nahuel and his sisters live. They left them in the jungle, untouched."

"For now," Emmett growled. Edward looked at him, but didn't speak. He didn't need to. I knew that look. Emmett was right.

"So what should we do?" Carlisle asked, "Are they going to come here?"

"I don't think so," Alice shook her head, "Caius is trying to pressure Aro to send for Renesmee, but Aro is fascinated by her. He doesn't want to lose all possibility of adding her -- or any of us -- to his 'collection'--" Jacob and I growled at the word. Alice continued, "--by forcing her into anything, by making an enemy of her."

"Too late for that," Emmett snarled, "What did they think would happen when they brought their entire army here to slaughter us? That we'd fall all over ourselves to sign up and join?"

Carlisle shook his head, "No, Aro is patient. He knows that we'll hold the grudge for a long time, but he doesn't think it will be _forever_. He's been around for thousands of years -- another century or two of waiting is not enough to deter him, not if he wants something badly enough. He can be very patient."

I clenched my fists. A haze of red seemed to color my vision. The idea of Aro waiting for eternity -- no matter what we did or where we went; waiting, waiting -- to get his greedy, grasping hands on Alice, or Renesmee, or Edward, or Bella... If he had been here now no one would have been able to stop me from lunging at his throat, nothing Jane or Alec or Felix tried to do to me. I would sink my jaws into that papery skin and rip and tear, laughing at the metallic scrape of flesh being torn from bone. He would not haunt my family forever. He would _not_ live to hurt Alice or Renesmee. Nothing Alice could say would tear me from the fight this time. If they came, I would be here. I would fight. This could not continue.

"So, what? Should I go to them?" Renesmee spoke, softly but determinedly.

"No!" resounded from every pair of lips. I saw Jacob's large frame trembling all over, beginning to blur. He clenched his teeth and fists tightly, trying to calm himself.

"Well, if they won't rest until they've seen me, if they're going to come _here..._" she argued, her jaw beginning to take that stubborn set she inherited from Edward. I huffed in exasperation. She was so much like Bella! Determined to put her own life at risk to protect us -- we who were so much more capable of defending ourselves than she was. We who would die a thousand times over to protect _her_. I began pacing, not worrying much about human speed. If there was anyone left here who didn't know about us, the cat was out of the bag now. I glanced around anyway, peering into the darkness as far away as the tiny convenience store. No one. It must be later than I thought. And, luckily, there wasn't anyone left here but my family, Tanya's family, and the two wolf packs and their families.

"You are not going anywhere _near_ the Volturi," Edward growled. A rumble of growls echoed in agreement. I realized one was my own.

"Then what do we do?" Bella whispered, her arms around Renesmee's face, still shielding her from the unseen danger.

"_We'll_ go," Emmett said, folding his arms across his chest and looking for all the world like a fairytale giant blocking a knight's passage across a bridge.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Alice disagreed, rubbing her temples, "I think if we just stay put for now, send a 'thank you' card and some pictures..."

"You want us to send a _thank you _card?" Emmett growled incredulously.

"Just something to acknowledge that we understand what they want, but we aren't ready to give it to them," Alice explained.

"We are _never_ giving them Renesmee," Edward spit through clenched teeth.

"No, I didn't mean --"

"Spit it out, Alice! What did you see?" Jacob nearly howled, jumping to his feet. He looked as though he wanted to shake my tiny angel to hurry her explanation -- I clenched my teeth to keep the protective growl from escaping. Jacob would be at least as terrified as the rest of us about Renesmee's safety. I tried to cut him some slack.

Alice took a deep breath. "The Volturi were ... concerned about Joham and his creations. Nahuel has a mind of his own, but his sisters were practically brainwashed to think they were superior not only to humans, but to most vampires. The Volturi thought Joham might be raising an army with some human weaknesses, but also some human strengths -- his offspring can survive on both blood and food, they can walk around in sunlight without risk of exposure ... they have a few advantages."

Edward snorted. "The Volturi like to be the only ones to play God," he sneered.

Alice continued, "Well, whatever their reasons, they executed Joham, but they left his children alone while they questioned him. Nahuel will convince them that he will take responsibility for his sisters and that he will keep them from creating any threat or nuisance to the Volturi. They will leave them alone. Aro is quite fascinated by the vampire-hybrids -- he doesn't want to destroy them unless he has to."

I didn't know if this made me feel any better. So Aro didn't _want_ to destroy Renesmee -- did that mean he never would? Would he eventually give in to the pressure from Caius? Bella had always felt that Aro was the "leader" among the Volturi brothers, but did his vote really count any more than Caius' or Marcus'? I doubted it. It had always seemed to me that Aro was just the mouthpiece for the Volturi because he was the most diplomatic -- less likely to betray the mockery they had made of the law than Caius was, and Marcus, well, it seemed Marcus could never be bothered to care much either way.

"So what should we do?" Esme asked softly, her face anguished.

"If we acknowledge that Renesmee is still here, still undiscovered, still no threat to our way of life, I think Aro will be satisfied for now. Carlisle can vouch for her as Nahuel will vouch for his sisters."

Carlisle nodded. "Of course."

"But that's only a temporary solution," Rosalie said, looking from Alice to Edward and back.

"Yes," Alice agreed, "But it will give us time to think of something better."

"Time is good," Billy spoke clearly. He had been listening intently to the conversation, not speaking, but now he leaned forward, carrying the weight of his birthright. "We might have been able to destroy the monsters the last time they came. Now, with all our pack grown and well-trained, we would certainly put up a bit of a fight."

I saw Jacob and Sam exchange glances, both frowning.

Carlisle shook his head, "I cannot ask you to put your people's lives in danger for us again."

"Well, if the Volturi do come here again, you won't have to ask," Sam said, softly but fiercely. "We cannot let scum like that continue to terrorize our lands."

I saw Seth, Quil, Embry, and Paul nodding enthusiastically. Jacob didn't speak. He was troubled. I suspected how he would feel -- there was nothing in the world that would keep him from fighting to protect Renesmee, but he wished he could be the only one to be in danger. If there were a way to face the Volturi alone, with any chance of victory, he would do it.

"So, for now, we send a card and some pictures," Bella summed.

"I think that would be best for now... Yes, it will deter them. They will not bother us again any time soon." Alice answered.

"Will it be okay to go to Dartmouth?" Rosalie inquired, biting her bottom lip.

Alice paused for a fraction of a second, then responded, "Yes."

After a moment of troubled thought, Renesmee spoke up.

"What about the honeymoon?" she asked, her face still distressed. I was sure she had been looking forward to her time with Jacob, but Paris was just too damned close to Italy. Alice closed her eyes and began to search the future.

"No!" Edward and Jacob hissed at the same time. I looked at Jacob in some surprise.

"I am not taking you anywhere _near_ those filthy bloodsuckers!" he spat. No one argued, though I could feel Renesmee's disappointment.

"But our --" Renesmee bit her lip. It was clear the honeymoon was important to her. I didn't want to, but I could imagine how she felt. She actually warranted the white dress, and two weeks at the Forks Lodge was hardly the romantic tryst she had been envisioning.

"What about Cancun?" I asked quietly. Alice stared at me incredulously. I shook my head.

"Not for _us_," I clarified, "What if Ness and Jake took our tickets and beach in Cancun? It's not much closer to the Volturi than Forks, and that way they'd still get their honeymoon..."

Edward still looked defiant, but I could feel Renesmee's mood lift.

"Aunt Alice?" she asked.

Alice frowned for a moment, then stared past the gift table, her striking porcelain face blank.

"Yes, that would be all right. They wouldn't even know you were gone."

"It might even be safer than Forks," I added. I knew the thought of an actual honeymoon was making Renesmee feel less terrified by the current situation. I would do whatever I could to ease her anxiety, to make her happy if possible.

Edward still frowned and Bella still looked panicked, but Renesmee seemed to be lightening with every second. Jacob looked doubtfully at me, then at Alice.

"I don't know... How can you be sure? You can't see us, and you didn't see _this_ coming," Jacob gestured disgustedly to the thick iron box.

Alice raised her chin and looked straight into Jacob's eyes. "I told you, I wasn't looking before. I should have been, but after six years of _nothing_ -- not a whisper, not a hint -- it just didn't cross my mind. Why would they care who Renesmee marries?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow at her. Obviously they _did_ care.

"Yes, but now I'm looking. Carefully. And I don't have to see you, just the Volturi. Carlisle's course of action is set, as is mine: he will vouch for Ness, I will send some form of correspondence, and the Volturi will do nothing for now."

"You sure?" he asked, looking torn. I could only imagine -- honeymoon versus your bride's safety.

"Yes," Alice responded certainly, "If you take our plane and our reservations tomorrow -- or is it today? -- you will have no trouble at all from the Volturi. They will not mobilize -- they won't know anything is going on at all."

Jacob didn't answer. He looked imploringly at Edward, apparently hoping he would make this tough decision for him. Edward took a deep breath and turned to Alice.

"Show me again," he commanded in the haughty tone he sometimes acquired when making a difficult decision, as though the weight of the world rested on his shoulders alone. Alice closed her eyes again and everyone watched as another three minutes ticked painfully by. Finally Edward exhaled and relaxed, turning to Jacob.

"It will be all right. The Volturi won't be doing _anything_ for the next three weeks, then they plan to send Dimitri, Jane, and Felix to Torronto with a few soldiers to clear up some coven rivalry that is spilling over into the streets. They will do nothing until then."

"And even if they do come here," Quil interjected, "you two will be thousands of miles away in Mexico. I hate to have you miss all the fun, bro, but if somebody's got to rip some bloodsuckers to shreds, it might as well..." He trailed off as he caught Rosalie's icy glare.

Renesmee finally stood, pulling her mother with her. She slipped her hand into Jacob's reassuringly.

"See, we'll be fine. And a private beach in Cancun is none too shabby," she smiled, trying to lighten the mood. Even without my gift, though, the tension was still palpable. It hung on the air like a heavy fog, thick and weighty.

"I don't know..." Jacob muttered, his dark brows pushing together in uncertainty. Renesmee looked at him with large, pleading eyes. Chocolate brown and soulful -- could anybody say no when looking in those eyes? No wonder Edward had always given Bella her way. "Well...if Alice is sure..." Jacob mumbled, looking hard at Alice for any sign of doubt or deception. Alice only nodded.

"And you and Uncle Jasper could take our trip to Europe," Renesmee continued.

I started to protest, but Alice closed her eyes and said, "Yes, that will be all right. As long as we stay away from Volterra, the Volturi will have no reason to bother us. We'll be fine."

I shook my head. Maybe Alice was not Aro's prime target right now, but she was certainly on his list of "To Acquire"s. I didn't want her any closer to him than I wanted Renesmee. It was still too dangerous. A stupid risk to take. We could celebrate our anniversary in Port Angeles for all I cared -- I wasn't putting Alice in harm's way.

As she did so often, she seemed to guess my thoughts. She flitted to my side and linked her arm in mine, speaking softly, soothingly.

"We won't stay in France. We'll go someplace else in Europe, somewhere far away from Volterra. They won't even know we're there."

I frowned. I felt Jacob's same indecision. An anniversary trip to Europe versus Alice's safety. If her safety were really in question, there would _be_ no question. But if she was sure there would be no danger... I pressed my lips together into a hard line, vacillating between keeping Alice unquestionably safe and celebrating the fiftieth anniversary we had both been anticipating for years. Europe was a large continent, after all. Did I worry about the unknown times the Volturi had visited the United States, kept tabs on the Southern clans or rebellious nomads? No. So why should I worry so much about being on _their_ continent? I tried to reason with myself, but the instinct to protect Alice was still strong.

"We will stay on the other side of the continent," I stated flatly. That would be practically as far away as Washington, really. Alice smiled, tentatively at first, then brighter as her visions solidified.

"Oh, it will all work out! You'll see," she chirped, turning to the assembled families, "I'm sure Jacob and Renesmee will have a wonderful time -- it really is beautiful down there -- and Jasper and I will visit Russia, maybe, or Finland -- we haven't decided."

I couldn't help the twitch to the corner of my lip. I was relieved that the trouble was averted, at least for now. It felt a little wrong to be leaving my family now, when they were all so distressed, but there would be nothing to do until Jacob and Renesmee returned at any rate. And Alice was rarely wrong.

"Dad?" Renesmee said softly, as if asking for permission. Edward hesitated.

"You're _sure_?" he asked Alice, watching her vision as she replayed it for him again. He sighed loudly, still frowning. "Yes, I suppose so. You _will_ promise me that you will be careful," he added sternly, looking first at his daughter, then at his new son-in-law. To Jacob this was not a request, it was a command. Jacob nodded soberly.

"Don't worry, I'll protect her if--" he sucked in a breath. Edward nodded.

"Alice--" Bella squeaked. It was clear she was still terrified for her daughter's safety.

"It will be ok, Bella, I promise. The trip to Torronto, that's it. Nothing in Mexico, nothing in Europe outside of Volterra."

Bella moved her head slowly up and down once, then finally released her daughter. She moved to Edward's side and he wrapped his arms tightly around her, as if to support her. She pressed her head into his chest.

"It's ok, love. Alice is telling the truth. They'll all be all right." He stroked her back with his hand. Bella didn't respond.

"Well, we'll need to re-pack you if you're going to Mexico," Rosalie gestured to Renesmee decidedly, trying not to dwell on the unpleasant events of the past half-hour.

"And you two will need some rest," Billy added, nudging Jacob with his wheelchair. Jacob turned and half-smiled at his father.

"You'll need your strength," Quil chuckled. All the vampires glared at him. Renesmee giggled nervously.

"We really _should_ get some sleep," she said, tugging lightly on Jacob's arm, "It's a long flight and there's only a few hours left before we need to be at the airport.

"Sleep. Right," Quil snickered. Bella stomped on his foot. "I meant because of all the, er, excitement today," Quil amended, his face the picture of innocence. Bella rolled her eyes. I glared again. Ugh. Renesmee on a honeymoon...


	11. Chapter 11

11. FAMILY

"ECH, COVER THAT THING UP," JACOB COMPLAINED AS HE, RENESMEE, ALICE, AND I

passed through the living room toward the front door. Renesmee shivered delicately as Rosalie quickly threw a blanket over the thick iron box that housed Aro's idea of a wedding gift. I was sure Rosalie's instantaneous action was not at all for Jacob's sake. We walked to the garage in thoughtful silence. I assumed I wasn't the only one who felt uneasy going abroad right now.

I wondered, for the millionth time, how the Volturi could have known about the wedding. Had they found someone else with the ability to see the future? That seemed unlikely -- no two gifts were ever quite the same, and if there had been someone else like Alice out there I would have thought Aro would have found her -- or him -- before now. Were they having someone keep watch on us? A spy? Again, I doubted it. Wouldn't Alice or Edward have been aware? Seen him or heard him? How, then? Some new power we hadn't yet heard of, maybe the ability to see what was going on immense distances away? If that were the case, then they would surely know that Renesmee and Jacob were leaving Forks, and Alice was positive that the Volturi would be clueless. So, then how? I asked myself again. How?

"It's too bad we can't take the Porsche with us," Alice sighed as we passed by the sleek yellow Turbo 911 in favor of the less conspicuous Volvo. Edward was trading Alice for the two weeks we would be gone, allowing his car to remain in airport parking so we could return whenever we got back -- just in case. On the off chance that something did go wrong, I wanted immediate transportation back to my family. Alice ran her fingers down the length of the car as she walked by. "I don't suppose we'll be able to rent anything as fast."

"You could always steal something again. Add another felony to your record," I smiled, trying to muster up enthusiasm I didn't really feel for the decision to leave. Alice stuck her tongue out at me.

I piled the huge steamer trunk she had packed for us and the two more reasonably-sized suitcases of Renesmee and Jacob's into the Volvo's trunk. It was surprisingly roomy for such a small car.

"See, I told you I could have fit the other case," Alice grumbled as she noticed the corner of space still open in the trunk. I rolled my eyes, handing her the two large carry-on bags she had insisted we needed as she slid lithely into the front seat.

Jacob chivalrously helped Renesmee into the back -- though she hardly needed it

-- then clambered in beside her. He looked tired. He had spent most the night staring at his new bride, asleep with her head in his lap, on the white couch in the living room surrounded by anxious and restless vampires. We had all discussed in endless circles the possible ways the Volturi could have known about Renesmee and Jacob. The same theories, the same arguments, over and over and over again. I felt exhausted, and I didn't even need sleep. A couple weeks in a tropical locale would do Jacob some good, I thought. Poor kid looked drained.

Renesmee, on the other hand, was exuberant. I tried telling myself her excitement was for the change of scene and not the, er, wedding night (well, technically they had spent their wedding night in their family's living room) in the secluded villa on the balmy beach paradise... Thank _goodness_ I didn't have Edward's gift. Try as they might I was sure the newlyweds couldn't keep _all_ their thoughts out of their minds in his presence. And Jacob had such vivid mental images, Edward had told me. Pure torture for a father. Poor Edward.

I climbed in behind the wheel and started the car. I doubted human ears could tell the difference, but I certainly noticed the distinction between the Porsche's nearly inaudible purr and the Volvo's revolving hum. That Porsche really was a thing of beauty -- almost enough to make me drool over cars like Edward and Rose. I set the sedan into reverse and backed dexterously out of the garage.

I waved goodbye to Bella, Edward, Emmett, Rosalie, Carlisle, and Esme as we pulled out of the drive, all of them standing on the porch steps to see us off. Bella and Renesmee had already had about fifteen nearly tearful goodbyes today. It had taken all of Alice's confident assurances that her daughter would be safe to convince Bella to release Renesmee from her steel embrace. Bella seemed almost as worried about Alice and me, but we had promised her -- again -- that everything would be fine.

"Don't worry," I had whispered to her as Alice hugged the family goodbye, "I'm keeping us a good six countries away from Volterra." Bella had seemed a little mollified

by that, and I had hugged her tightly, a thank you for all her care and true concern. "We'll see you in two weeks," I assured her, dripping a little calm over her. Her worry wasn't going to change anything -- might as well leave her relaxed for as long as possible. She'd have time enough to be distressed when I was gone.

We left the big white house behind, Renesmee gazing out the back window, even after the house was lost in the ferns and trees and twisting road. She was a jumble of emotions; anxiety, sadness, guilt... but mostly anticipatory excitement. Finally she turned back to Jacob and took his hand. I could see them looking into each other's eyes in the rearview mirror. The connection was so deep, so profound, I suddenly felt ridiculous for objecting to the thought of them together in Cancun. Not that I wanted details, but they both deserved all the happiness in the world. Jacob would give my Nessie that happiness, and that was all I wanted for her.

"Oh, I almost forgot," I said, pulling an envelope from my breast pocket. Of course, I hadn't forgotten, but I thought this surprise could wait after all the commotion from last night. I handed the envelope to Jacob. He looked puzzled until he read the return address. Then a slight apprehension rolled over his immense frame. "I was going to give it to you after the wedding, but..."

Jacob looked at my eyes in the mirror, then slowly tore open the envelope.

"What is it?" Alice and Renesmee asked together. Renesmee curious, Alice annoyed -- she didn't like having to ask.

"It's my SAT scores," he said, staring blankly at the paper he had pulled from the envelope.

"You took the SATs?" Renesmee asked excitedly. I knew she was dying to know how Jacob had done, but she was afraid to ask in case he had faired poorly. Jacob looked at me again in the mirror, his face still blank. Renesmee noted the expression and her excitement faltered. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway, we're already in--"

I couldn't suppress my grin. I had my ways, and I knew Jacob's scores already.

"No," he said slowly, shaking his head, "I ... I got a fourteen-eighty."

"What?" Alice and Renesmee cried, again in unison.

"That's amazing! Oh, I told you you deserved to go to Dartmouth!" Renesmee crowed.

"Congratulations, Jacob," Alice turned in her seat to smile brightly at him. An incredulous grin began to spread across his face.

"A fourteen-eighty. Billy's not gonna believe this."

"Sure he will," I beamed, "You're a virtual genius under all that humility."

"Right," Jacob mumbled, looking embarrassed.

"Brains _and_ brawn," Renesmee giggled, hugging her husband close to her, "Oh, I'm so proud of you! Even J Jenks didn't forge a score that high!"

"Thanks, Jasper," Jacob said, nodding in gratitude at my reflection. Alice eyed me suspiciously. When I was with Jacob, she couldn't see me in her visions either.

"What did you have to do with this?"

"Not much," I said, at the same time Jacob answered,

"Everything."

"He helped me study," Jacob explained as Renesmee and Alice gazed at him, "Did a hell of a job, too, apparently. No _way_ I would have done this well without Jasper. You're actually a pretty good teacher, man. I thought it was just with fighting and strategy and stuff, but you really made all those vocab words and algebra theorems stick and make sense." He stared at the SAT scores again. "Thanks. Really."

"Don't mention it," I said, trying not to smile. "I actually had a good time. If you need any help with finals--"

"I'm gonna _live_ at your house during finals week," Jacob chortled, leaning forward and patting me roughly on the shoulder. We all laughed.

In what seemed like no time we had arrived at the airport, parked in the long term parking area, extracted the ridiculous mountain of luggage, and were heading to the ticketing counter. Alice had called a few hours earlier to change our tickets around, and Renesmee and Jacob were all set to leave about forty-five minutes before we did. We checked our luggage at our different airlines and met back at the International Departing Flights terminal. Alice adjusted the white eyelet dress she had selected for Renesmee (ridiculous here in Seattle, but perfect for sunny Cancun), smoothing down a ruffle, tightening a strap, twisting the bodice slightly to the left. Alice always insisted on perfection when she was anxious, and I knew saying goodbye to Ness for the first time in almost six years was making her more fretful than usual.

"Remember that cave about two miles east of the villa," she rambled, "and you _have_ to go see the ruins -- they're amazing. Oh, and there's this wonderful little cantina about three miles outside of town, if you want to go dancing -- and I hear they make the best margaritas..."

At last the plane was boarding and Alice was fussing like an overbearing mother sending her only child off to college.

_And Ness didn't want _Bella_ to come_, I smirked inwardly.

Finally Renesmee and Jacob were lost in the sea of passengers and the bend of the boarding tunnel. I put my arms around _my_ little wife, bending to rest my chin on her slender shoulder, and whispered gently in her ear.

"They're going to have a wonderful time. And so are we."

Alice grimaced, still looking anxious.

"Do you think she'll find the camisole I got for her? Or the bikini?"

"She'll be fine. She knows you well enough to dig through the suitcase for hidden treasure as soon as she lands."

Alice smiled slightly. Not the blinding angel-smile that would stop my breath in my chest, but we were working up to it. I took the immense "carry-on" bags from her in my right hand, grasping her warm little hand in my left, and turned toward our own terminal. We would be leaving soon as well, and really, after Paris, we didn't have a plan. Incredible and romantic as Paris was, it was a mere train ride from Italy. I wasn't staying there any longer than it took to rent a car or book another flight.

"So where do you think we should go?" I asked as I maneuvered through the rushing humans. I tried to ignore the burn in my throat and breathe only through my mouth.

"Oh, I don't know. Anywhere, really. We could make it an adventure." She grinned up at me.

"Leave it up to Fate?" I asked, smiling back. Maybe I could surprise Alice, after all. If I made no decision, she would see nothing certain. "I say we just take the first available European flight from Paris. Play it by ear."

"Any flight that takes us a continent away from Italy," Alice corrected, elbowing me playfully in the hip.

"Yes," I agreed, completely serious.

"Ah, well," she sighed, "there are plenty of pretty, secluded places I haven't seen yet on the far side of Russia. The shopping won't be any good, but..." She waved her hand in resigned dismissal.

When we reached our terminal Alice decided to pick up some odds and ends at one of the gift shops. Like we needed any more luggage. I reclined against a pillar while the attendants prepared to board the first class passengers. I saw a tall sandy-haired girl with deep brown eyes eyeing me in appreciative awe. I tended to forget how these poses made me look to human eyes. Like a movie star or a model. Glorious. I shifted my weight and looked away from the girl uncomfortably. Rosalie might adore the attention, but I didn't. The last thing I needed was a hot-blooded human fussing over me in a cramped airplane for the next five hours. I swallowed the excess of venom in my mouth that flowed at the thought. I heard the attendant whisper to someone,

"Look at _that_ guy! Wow." I could feel their eyes on my face, raking my body, but I stubbornly stared out the window at the landing airplanes. Alice needed to hurry up.

"Wasn't he in that magazine Trent had? Oh, what's it called?" The other person, another woman, whispered back.

"No, wasn't it a movie? The one with that guy, you know -- the brunette with three names?"

They continued their discussion, trying to place me. It was a good thing it was overcast (as usual) outside, or they'd really have something to gossip about, I thought. _No, no, the _sparkly _model, the one that glitters in the sun..._

"Just in time," a silver bell voice chimed as a light hand rested on my arm. "Those two were about to come offer you some 'special treatment.' "

I chuckled softly and, very conspicuously, pulled Alice in close for a long, passionate kiss. The intention was simple, but after a twenty-fourth of a second with Alice's lips against mine, I forgot where I was or what I was doing. As usual when Alice and I were together this way, all I knew was her. A weight that had nothing to do with the Volturi or the hot-blooded humans knotted my stomach, and my breath stopped in my chest. A plane could have crashed into the terminal right now and I wouldn't have noticed.

The whispered disappointments of the two attendants brought me back to reality. I smiled as Alice disentangled herself from my arms, leaning against me a bit embarrassed. Public displays of affection were not usually something I gave into, but really, this was for the greater good. I didn't kiss her again, but I pulled her close to me, my arms around her shoulders, hers around my waist.

"I'm glad we're doing this," I admitted. She knew I meant the anniversary trip, though the kiss wasn't a bad idea either.

"Me too. I don't suppose you'd want to spend one night in Paris -- we could walk the Seine by lamplight and I'm sure that boutique on the Champs Elysée has plenty of new merchandise in..."

I pressed my lips together. As tempting as that was, the sinister thoughts of Aro and his grasping hands flashed in my head. I suppressed a shudder.

"We'll play it by ear," I hedged, not wanting to disappoint her. I was sure I couldn't relax enough in France to make the stay worth while, anyway. Really I wouldn't feel in any mood for romance until we had at least one country between us and the Volturi. I shook my head -- why was I giving up the distance of an ocean _and_ a country for such frivolity? What was I doing?

Alice felt me tensing and stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips against the tip of my nose.

"We're going to be fine," she breathed in my ear, "Stop worrying."

"It's not me I'm worried about," I mumbled. I could take care of myself.

"I know," Alice sighed softly, turning her head to the side so she could lean it against my chest. "But I promise, we'll both be fine. I know what you would do to protect me. Do you think I'd risk losing _you_ by putting myself in danger?"

I knew what she meant. I would easily throw myself in front of a train to protect Alice. If there were any chance something would happen to her, and therefore that I would be endangered protecting her from it, she would never risk this trip. She would give her life for me as quickly as I would give mine for her. There wasn't much, well, really there wasn't _anything_, we wouldn't do to keep the other from harm. We were the chink in _each other's_ armor.

"Well, we'll see," I replied evasively, smoothing my hand over her thick inky hair.

"Now boarding all first class passengers and passengers requiring assistance for flight two-oh-nine, first class passengers and those requiring assistance for flight two-oh-nine," the sandy-haired flight attendant called over the intercom. I gathered Alice's bags as we prepared to board the plane.

The flight was not quite as bad as I had anticipated. After my passionate display with Alice, the flight attendants seemed rather resentfully unconcerned with my comfort. I saw the four stewardesses aboard stealing furtive glances our way, but they tried not to stare openly when I refused drinks or the in-flight meal. I did hear the heartbeat of a little blonde attendant begin to race when she heard my voice -- like warm honey or velvet to her ears -- as I asked for a pillow (it was always good to keep up appearances), but she was either inaudible over the thrumming of the engines or she kept her reactions to herself. I didn't hear her speak to anyone about me, at any rate.

Alice happily sketched in a notebook or prattled on a little too innocently about the shops she'd just love to visit in Paris. I bit my lip but didn't say anything. Alice usually got her way in the end, but I wasn't giving in to this request easily. She'd have to give me some damn good assurances that _nothing_ -- not a hint or a flash -- would come from the Volturi. As I couldn't see into her mind as Edward could, I didn't see how she planned to make me as certain as I needed to be in order to stay even one night. Words like "honeymoon suite" and "sheer" and "Parisian lace" were dropped none too subtly throughout the flight. I did my best to ignore her. The rapid pace of my breathing was not helping anything, and I had to clench my teeth and the armrests very tightly to keep myself composed. Eventually my little schemer seemed to realize she was only making things more difficult for me (or her visions had shown her she wasn't swaying me much), and she flipped open the magazine she had purchased at the gift shop. Despite my slight exasperation, I had to work hard to keep the twitch from my lips as she "accidentally" let the page fall to an article about new "bedroom moves." There was something to be said for the sexual revolution.

I feigned sleep for a few hours, thinking -- again -- about Renesmee and the Volturi. How had they known? They were always recruiting new "talent," but what kind of super-power would allow them to know Ness and Jacob were getting married? Had they really found someone to take Alice's place, since she had declined to join? As glad as that would make me -- to have Alice off the hook, no longer sought after -- it was almost the same as if she _were_ in their possession. At least, the results were almost the same. Alice's power in the hands of the Volturi. They would be omniscient, omnipresent. I shuddered. No, I was sure if they had an evil Alice we would have heard something about it by now. Allistair and his conspiracy theories -- or Garrett or Eleazar and their mistrust of the Volturi -- someone would have suspected something and passed it along by now. If suddenly the Volturi knew things they couldn't have known, thousands of miles away, rumors would be buzzing. Wouldn't they? Then how? A spy who knew enough to stay out of Edward's range of "hearing?" That was possible, but I was certain that even if Alice were distracted she would have seen another of our kind if he or she were that close. She always did. Truthfully, if someone were close enough to see us, no matter how stealthy they were, _one_ of us -- or one of the werewolves -- would have seen or smelled them. There just was no way to hide from so many watchful eyes. How, then? How?

The question spun in circles in my head, the same questions and theories and arguments we had discussed all night, that I had repeated in my mind since the moment Renesmee opened that damned present.

"Ugh!" I groaned and shook my head, readjusting my position. I didn't open my eyes. To everyone but Alice it would just look like I was having a dream. I tried to focus on something else. Until there was more information, it did me no good to dwell on baseless theories. Until I got back to my family and we devised the next step in our plan, what was the point of this whirlpool of conjecture and hypotheses?

With an effort I shifted my thoughts to more pleasant avenues, to various memories and daydreams. Alice the first day I had seen her in that dingy diner in Philadelphia, the incomparable way I had felt after talking with her for just a moment. That love and hope that filled my entire body, my entire being.

Edward's face when he had come home from his hunting trip to find a battle-scarred soldier and a tiny ballerina fortuneteller making themselves at home in what had previously been his bedroom. My mouth twitched. That face had been priceless.

Or Alice in that tiny walk-up outside Boston when we had tried, for a short time, to live on our own as Rosalie and Emmett sometimes did. It had turned out to be too difficult for me to be living in such cramped quarters with humans -- their scent saturating the walls, the furniture, my very clothes... I would have endured it if Alice had been happy, but she was much more contented when we lived with Esme, Carlisle, and Edward. Alone time was good -- definitely, no complaints about alone time -- but it was nice to have a family to talk to and interact with. Even so, I remembered fondly Alice in one of my undershirts -- enormous on her petite frame -- happily humming to herself and painting the handkerchief-sized living room, trying to add some light and color to the miniscule space. I had to smile at that. That apartment was Alice trying to "rough it."

I reminisced about Edward's bachelor party, when Emmett and I had kidnapped him from Bella's unwilling arms for one last night of "guy time," as Emmett called it. It wasn't much of a bachelor party, by traditional standards. No strippers or alcohol or smoky clubs. Just the three of us (Carlisle had good-naturedly bowed out, insisting it was a "boys night," and fathers did not belong) on the Rugged Ridge mountain expanse, where cougars were plentiful. Though Edward had found two lions to his liking and Emmett had even stumbled upon a mid-sized black bear (I was content to stick with a lone mountain wolf I had cornered against the sheer side of a cliff -- he was only about eighty pounds, but he put up a very satisfying fight), the conversation was what I remembered most. Edward simply wouldn't shut up about Bella. To be fair, this was all new for him and his wedding _was_ the next day, but I wondered how it was humanly -- or immortally -- possible to speak one person's name so many times in the course of one night. Despite the constant buzz of "Bella" in my ear, I was delighted to see Edward finally happy. Just so damned _elated_. After all these years he finally _got_ it.

Oh, he had always patronizingly assured us he understood what we meant when Emmett and I talked about how we would do anything -- _anything_ -- for Alice and Rosalie. He had nodded his head, insisting he would die for them too, for any of us. Sometimes Emmett would try to argue, try to explain, but Edward was always so certain he knew everything. Now he actually understood. When it came down to it, dying for someone was easy. It was all the other millions of things you would be willing to do, things you never thought yourself capable of. I cringed as I thought about Renesmee's first year of life. I would _never_ have left everyone when the Volturi descended upon Forks of my own accord. To this day I couldn't express how miserable, how wretched, how truly unspeakably _awful_ I felt leaving them all there, knowing they thought I was abandoning them, knowing they thought I was a coward. Living with the knowledge thatthey believed I wouldn't fight to the last twitching strip of sinew and bone in my body to protect them; knowing how they must feel, thinking that that knew me, trusting me, and then ... I just left to save my own hide. I sucked in a gasp of air at the thought, nearly choking on the vanilla-and-cotton scent of the woman leaning forward to grab something stowed under the chair behind me. If _anyone_ besides Alice had asked me -- well, begged me was more accurate -- to leave, I would have refused flat out without a second's hesitation, and probably with a growl and a few choice swear words in response. If I hadn't actually _done_ it for Alice, I wouldn't have believed myself capable of such base treachery. Of course, in the end, Alice was right. Alice was always right. Aro needed to believe she had gone, never to return. We had needed to find Nahuel and his aunt. My family forgave me once they understood -- even forgave me when they hadn't understood, which made me feel even more detestable. But the fact remained -- I would have left with Alice and never come back. I would have hated myself for doing it, but I would have done it all the same. For better or worse, Edward finally understood that.

My mind shifted to the image I had conjured when Bella had unveiled the Hanover house; the dream of a human Alice with a human me and human babies. Alice was made for the fashion of the twenties. How she would have loved that era, had she been free to enjoy it. Had her parents not been so inhuman as to lock her up in that dungeon of an asylum, as most mental institutions were in those days. I scratched four deep grooves into the plastic of the armrest as my nails dug in, and quickly had to try to scuff them out. Don't leave evidence. But the daydream. Alice in a white linen dress, straight and simple, rocking in a chair on the porch, fanning herself as a summer breeze flitted across the lawn up to the house. Me in a vest and wide legged pants, pinstripes with a watch chain hanging low, leaning against the wall watching little Jackson run through the tall grass with two flaxen haired sisters. In all probability, though, any children of Alice's would have that thick jet black hair. That would be okay, too. The picture changed to a beautiful little girl with thick inky curls, holding a rag doll in her hand with her dainty finger in her mouth. A gorgeous little girl with Alice's eyes and thick lashes. Of course, neither Alice nor I really knew what color her eyes had been when she was human. Even if she could have remembered, I doubted they had many mirrors in the asylum. I focused on the stunning girl's eyes. Golden, as Alice's were now? Maybe a deep blue? That would be striking. Maybe a warm chocolaty brown like Bella's and Renesmee's?

I felt Alice rest her head on my shoulder, sighing softly. I smiled, opening my eyes to look down at her flawless pale features, her spiky black hair, her perfect pointed nose.

"Do you ever wonder, well, if you and I could have..."

She glanced up at me. "What?"

"If we had ever ... had our own child,"

She exhaled, a little furrow of surprise in her brow.

"What do you think she would have looked like?" I spoke almost in a whisper.

Alice thought for a moment. It wasn't as if we had never talked of the things we longed for from the human future that was now lost to us -- families, a normal life, growing old together... -- but we had never really talked about having children as we were now. There really was no point. Until Bella and Edward, we hadn't thought our kind could reproduce at all. And even now that we knew, it was a moot point for us. Alice wasn't human. She could never carry a child anyhow.

"Who said it would be a girl?" She smiled faintly, tracing a half moon-shaped scar on my forearm with her dainty finger.

I smiled, strangely glad she was playing along. It may be an impossibility, but I could daydream if I wanted to, couldn't I? After all, these were the only kinds of dreams left to me.

"Okay, what _he_ or she would have looked like."

Alice was quiet for a minute, then she said softly, "I always thought, if such a thing were possible, that we'd have a little boy just like you. Tousled honey blonde hair and tall for his age, fearless." She looked up at my pleasantly surprised expression, "We'd have to keep him from playing with the lions and bears, or from jumping off a cliff. He wouldn't know fear. He would have given Renesmee a run for her money," Alice chuckled softly.

I couldn't help smiling more broadly. She had thought about this too. A cousin for Renesmee, not human, as I had pictured, but a sturdy, bold little monster to race young Ness through the woods and tackle deer and pull her curls. I chuckled too.

"I thought a pretty baby girl, with dark curls and pink cheeks -- I'm sure you had pink cheeks once. And your eyes -- whatever color they might be, they would be your eyes. So sweet and thoughtful and quiet -- well, I guess she wouldn't have gotten _everything_ from you."

Alice pinched the scar.

"And she would have been impeccably dressed, all the time. Two or three years old, it wouldn't matter. Never a ruffle out of place, never a spot or a wrinkle. I can see her pouting when her brother gets a smudge on her new frock..." I smiled, looking over Alice's head out the window into the midnight blue of the darkening sky.

"A boy and a girl, then," Alice whispered, slipping her hand into mine. I kissed the top of her head tenderly.

"A boy and a girl," I agreed. It was a pretty dream. Maybe someday, years from now, we would adopt like Carlisle and Esme. Not children, but one day we might feel like parents, too. And we'd find a golden haired youth in his teens, and an ebony-haired ballerina, and we'd take them in and teach them the ways of our family. We could do that. Someday.

* * *

As we exited the plane in the Charles de Gaulle International Airport in Paris I sucked in deep mouthfuls of air. It wasn't exactly fresh, as we were still inside the building surrounded by humans, but it was better than the dense saturated odor of the enclosed plane. The second leg of the trip had been much worse than the first. Either the flight crew on the plane from Chicago to Paris was much friendlier, or my mouth-to-mouth performance with Alice had been the best idea I'd ever had. The flight attendants were almost unbearably attentive for the eight and a half hour flight from Illinois to France. I clenched my hands into tight fists at my side. Recycled air, one hundred twenty-seven heartbeats pumping thick warm blood through tight veins, so close to the surface, just under that thin membrane of skin ... I locked my jaw tight. Thinking about it wasn't helping -- too bad I couldn't calm _myself_ down.

Alice and I made our way to the crowded baggage carousel, being careful not to touch anyone with our icy skin. An elderly couple and a man who appeared to be in his late twenties gave us a wide berth as we tried to squeeze up to the conveyor belt. The woman eyed us cautiously, knowing instinctively that something was not right with us, but as this gave us unfettered access to the parade of luggage I didn't mind. Sometimes being a vampire had its advantages.

I hefted up the steamer trunk as it passed by us, pretending to struggle with its immense size and obvious weight. It would never do to sweep up the huge trunk as though it were stuffed with feathers -- which was about as heavy as it seemed to me. Always keep up appearances. I didn't really have to think about it much, anymore. It was pretty second nature now.

"So, do we check into the five-star honeymoon suite overlooking the Seine, or do we hope for business class on the next flight to Saint Petersburg?"

I glared at her. The thought of sitting through another minute of dense recycled human air -- even if I spent the entire flight holding my breath -- made my mouth fill with venom and my throat blaze. This was hardly fair. I gritted my teeth, vacillating between immediate relief from the barely endurable ache or immediate escape from the possibly life-threatening danger. Ugh!

"Fine. One night," I managed, though I did not unclench my jaw.

"Excellent!" Alice crowed, taking my arm and dancing toward the exit. Alice always got her way. I'd have to stop giving Edward such a hard time -- we were both pushovers.

Alice hailed a taxi and I kindly helped the driver hoist the huge case into the trunk. The carry-on bags had no hope of fitting in this car, so I held them on my lap as we drove to the hotel. I ground my teeth again in exasperation at the picture I must present. Even Edward didn't carry Bella's _purses_.

Alice pirouetted out of the cab as the driver held the door for her, flitting across the sidewalk toward the grand hotel. I handed the driver seventy-five Euros, nodding politely at his stuttered thanks, and lifted the steamer trunk out of the back of the taxi. The first streetlamps began to flit on as twilight descended upon Paris.

"Réservation pour Whitlock," Alice trilled in her musical, lilting voice to the well-dressed male receptionist at the check-in counter. He stared at her for a moment, seeming a bit dazed. Alice tilted her head slightly, waiting politely. He stuttered incoherently in French before typing something into the computer. He had to re-do his inquiry three times as he punched in the wrong keys. I rolled my eyes. Sometimes I thought Alice liked this.

"_Ah, oui, madamemoiselle. Le suite de lune de mîe_l," he noticed me standing a few feet behind Alice and his face fell a little. I could feel the disappointment in him. I smiled back at him widely, letting the light of the elaborate crystal chandelier in the lobby glint off my teeth. He barely suppressed his shudder and motioned to a bellhop to get our bags, handing Alice a plastic magnetized key. "_Chambre seize quarante-deux._"

"_Merci, beaucoup_," Alice flashed a dainty smile, setting his heart racing again, and spun on the spot to face me. I rolled my eyes again so she could see.

"What?" she asked innocently.

The bellhop led the way to the elevator -- I held my breath on the way up -- and showed us to the honeymoon suite, room sixteen forty-two. I slipped him a generous tip and turned to watch Alice prance around the suite in delight.

"Oh, it's beautiful! Someday we should stay here for a whole week," she looked at me out of the corner of her eye.

"If someday is when Italy has fallen into the ocean, then sure," I replied casually, carrying the steamer trunk to the master bedroom. I had to admit, this was a gorgeous hotel. The inverted "C" and "E" logo of the posh Champs Elysée Plaza hotel was inconspicuously embroidered and embossed all over the rooms. The rooms themselves were decorated in soft lilacs and purples, giving a very springy and regal feel to the space. When I saw the delicate pink rose petals spread over the huge master bed and the "honeymoon" gift bag filled with scented candles and expensive massage oils, it was hard to regret giving in to Alice's designs.

I set down the trunk and returned to the wide living room where Alice had pulled open the heavy curtains and was gazing out at the sparkling lights and beautiful avenue of the Champs Elysée. I came to stand right behind her, wrapping my strong arms around her tiny waist and resting my chin on her shoulder. I kissed her earlobe delicately.

"Mmm," she sighed, apparently completely contented.

"Ok, so one night in Paris isn't a terrible idea," I conceded, breathing the words softly into her ear. She turned her head so our faces were an inch apart.

"Why would you ever doubt me?" she smiled coyly, reaching her right hand up to caress my cheek. I leaned in the inch so our lips met, softly at first, but building in intensity as she turned her entire body to face me and pressed her petite frame against mine. The hints of lace and satin had left me very ready for this moment, and our kiss became more urgent as Alice caught up to my mood. I doubted she'd been very far off. Though my muscles didn't get tired or sore, it was always rather inconvenient having to crane my neck and back down to reach her. With one deft movement I lifted her up so her legs were encircling my waist and our faces were even.

Alice's back was against the thick glass of the window, so I was able to release my left hand from under her leg and begin running my fingers down her face, her throat, her collarbone. She scratched her nails lightly down my back, finding the bottom of the pale blue sweater and pulling it up toward my head. I smiled as I realized her intention and extricated my arms and lips from her long enough to allow her to pull the sweater off. She dropped it to the floor and continued tracing her nails up and down my back. My breath came faster, the knot in my stomach tightening. I pressed my mouth harder to hers, parting her lips with mine, biting her bottom lip very softly with my teeth. I traced the silhouette of her body from her shoulder to her waist, brushing my hand across her flat stomach, her thigh, her hip. When her scratching became a little less restrained I moved my hand to her hair and grasped a thick fistful. I tugged a little harder than was strictly necessary, and Alice's head bent back as a gasp escaped her perfect mouth. I ran my lips down the length of her neck, and, holding her tightly around the waist, moved to the immense rose-petaled bed. Our lips did not part as I maneuvered -- rather impressively actually, as all my focus was on Alice -- through the living room and past the double doors of the Master bedroom. I thought fleetingly about the wasted lingerie lying unmodeled in the steamer trunk, but there was no way either of us was going to wait to unpack it. Besides, I thought, as I laid my little angel softly upon the petals and thick brocade comforter, there was always later. It wasn't like we needed time to sleep...

* * * *

It wasn't until I heard the soft rap on the door that I realized it must be morning and we had both forgotten to place the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door. In a flash I had pulled up the khaki pants that were strewn in the corner of the room, shut the living room curtains tightly, and was pulling the door open the slightest crack to refuse the maid service. I hoped Alice wasn't following my example and getting dressed, although if that last lacy number was any indication of what she had brought, I wouldn't mind another fashion show.

As I sauntered back into the bedroom I grinned broadly and crawled on hands and knees across the bed to kiss my wife good morning. Alice was sitting up with her knees against her chest and the thin lavender sheets pulled up under her arms. Her hair was more ruffled than she would ever have allowed it to be, if she had noticed, and it was absolutely adorable.

"Happy anniversary, Mrs. Whitlock," I said, leaning over her and pressing my mouth to hers. She smiled her heart-breaking, breath-stopping smile. Brilliant. We didn't often use the surname Whitlock, but if this had been a regular marriage, a regular anniversary, that would be her name. Alice Whitlock. I beamed a little broader at the sound of her name in my head.

"Happy anniversary, Mr. Whitlock," she answered, snuggling down into the covers and resting her head on the pillow. A thought seemed to occur to her and she frowned slightly, like the baby girl I had pictured with a smudge on her dress. "We missed the Seine by lamplight."

I chuckled softly and turned to lie next to her, looping my arm under her shoulders. I traced the pale satin skin up and down her upper arm with my fingers -- the sensation was incredible. Touching Alice was like stroking the most perfect crystal, smooth and flawless -- a crystal infused with an electric current that sent shocks and shivers of ecstasy down my body, from my fingers to my toes, coming back to knot in the pit of my stomach.

"Yes, I suppose we got a bit carried away."

She smiled again, flashing her brilliant teeth, and her brow smoothed. She nuzzled into me, resting her head and hand upon my bare chest. Thrills of electricity coursed through my body. I stroked her hair with the hand that encircled her shoulders. Alice brushed her lips against my chest and sighed contentedly.

"Oh well. The Seine could never have compared to this, anyway."

I had to agree. There was no beauty on earth that compared to the glorious little angel in my arms right now. I looked over at her flawless form. Her eyes were closed, her lids a soft lavender, only a few shades lighter than her lips. The thin sheet wrapped around her soft body didn't hide much -- it clung to her perfect silhouette in a rather enticing way.

"So when is check-out?" I asked, raising an eyebrow suggestively. Alice glanced at the clock and grinned, more imp than angel now.

"Oh, we have a good three hours," she giggled, her voice chiming silver.

"Will that be enough time?" I wondered mischievously.

"I guess we'll have to make due," she said, rolling over so she was above me. The thin sheet fell away at the movement, and suddenly time and space and everything in the world but Alice's lips and skin and scent and breath disappeared. It was hard to care if they ever returned. This was enough.


	12. Chapter 12

12. FATE

"SO, DRIVING OR FLYING?" ALICE INQUIRED AS WE STOOD IN FRONT OF THE

Champs Elysees Plaza and waited for the elderly doorman to hail us a cab. I thought for a moment. Driving might be more fun -- and more comfortable -- but flying would take us farther quicker. Now that we were outside (standing under the purple-and-cream-striped awning, covered from head to toe in clothing and gloves and hats -- I even had a thin scarf wrapped around my neck, though the temperature was in the eighties, to cover the skin that might otherwise be exposed, as I had only donned a baseball cap and not the wide-brimmed straw-and-ribbon number Alice wore. Paris in the summer. Brilliant idea, I thought.), the serenity and contentment I felt in the honeymoon suite had ebbed quickly away. It was easy to imagine, in that romantic, soothing, little room, that Alice and I were alone in the world, perfectly safe and happy in the protective darkness. Now that we were surrounded by sunlight and busy humans -- many who stared at the curiously overdressed tourists waiting for a taxi -- I was feeling more and more uneasy with every second. Despite the fact that Alice had still seen no change in the Volturi's movements, I just couldn't bring myself to take the chance. Why risk it? We were getting out of France, and fast.

"Flying," I answered firmly. I thought I heard a soft sigh.

We returned to the airport and strode up to the Departing Flights screens. I resolved to try to make this as enjoyable as possible. We wouldn't be staying in Paris, but this could still be a wonderful anniversary trip.

"See anything you like?" I asked, pulling off the gloves and scarf now that we were inside and behind thickly tinted plate glass. Alice deliberated for a while, looking at all the departures.

"Hmm, there's a flight to Berlin in a couple hours. But it's so crowded in the summer. We could go to Copenhagen ... but that flight doesn't leave until tonight." She continued to list the possible places we could go and the reasons why they weren't suitable. I sighed loudly.

"Ready?" I said, closing my eyes. I pointed my index finger, twirled it around in a circle, and moved my hand forward until it bumped against a screen. I opened my eyes. "We were leaving it up to Fate, remember?"

"Minsk?" Alice asked doubtfully.

"Minsk is a big city," I offered, shrugging, "They'll have shops."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Do you know most Americans have never even heard of Belarus?"

I smiled and began to pull her toward the appropriate airline. "Then we won't run into anyone we know... That's a sad commentary on high school geography, by the way."

Alice frowned, but walked along with me. Minsk would be no Paris or Berlin, but it was rich in history and tradition, and neither of us had ever been there. Besides, it might be kind of nice to go somewhere a little more secluded, away from the swarms of tourists that always descended upon the more popular European destinations in the summer.

We purchased our tickets, checked our luggage, and headed back through the airport toward our terminal. Luckily we didn't have to wait long to board -- we had arrived just in time. It was quickly apparent Minsk was not quite the ultimate vacation destination Paris had been; the plane was a quarter empty. Alice kept shooting me accusing glares as it became more and more clear no more passengers would be boarding. But, as business class was all that had been available and fewer passengers meant more space and fewer tantalizing heartbeats, I leaned back contentedly -- the quarter inch or so that constituted "reclining" in a business class seat -- and sighed ostentatiously, placing my hands behind my head and closing my eyes.

"Oh!" Alice huffed and turned her back to me as much as she was able, pulling out her magazine and concentrating decidedly upon it. I worked very hard to swallow the chuckle that built in my throat. Alice would forgive me. I'd find some fabulous little boutique where she could buy out the store and supply our entire family with a unique new wardrobe for the fall semester, and she'd be entirely satisfied. I saw her shoulders relax slightly and I guessed she had seen an image of just such a future. I smiled, leaning my head against her shoulder. She didn't shove me off or wriggle out of the way, so I assumed I was already forgiven. This would be nice. We could stay in town for a couple of days, then maybe venture out into the ancient European forests and hunt. We could be utterly and completely secluded for a while, just me and the love of my life and beautiful tall untouched trees... With images of the romantic and private time we would share dancing through my head, the plane left the runway, and I barely noticed the burning ache in my throat for the five and a half hours it took to fly from France to Belarus.

By the time we exited the plane Alice was in much higher spirits, though she continued to pretend to be upset by our less than vogue destination. I guessed she was trying to milk my guilt for all it was worth so I'd let her shop as much as possible. She had struck up a conversation with a very sophisticated middle-aged woman aboard the plane -- who was also complaining about the lack of first-class accommodations -- about the fashion districts in Minsk and the best stores to patronize. She had come away with a veritable mental guide book of stores to visit, and it was all I could do to convince her to check into a hotel and unload our luggage before we began the shopping spree.

As our taxi drove through the sprawling city, it became apparent that despite Alice's constant complaints, Minsk was a metropolis with a combination of new and old world culture that I found quite charming. Most the architecture looked Russian, reminding me strongly of St. Petersburg. White seemed to be the paint or stone color of choice; nearly every building was tall and white and spired, many with bulbous rounded turrets. The only other color choice seemed to be a brick orange, and it was peppered throughout the city on the newer, less grand buildings. Throughout the whole capital was an aura of another era, an ancient timelessness we just didn't have in the states. The oldest buildings America could boast were no more than three or possibly four hundred years old. In Europe the buildings had stood tall for a thousand years or more, since history had been recorded. It was amazing. Incredible, knowing you were walking past the very buildings kings and czars and rebels had trodden past. I always felt a bit awed when I was in Europe surrounded by such history, but it was easy to forget about the sheer age of some of your surroundings in, say, Paris or London, where modern culture and architecture were so prevalent. As a smaller hub, Minsk seemed to retain more of that old world feeling than its more popular counterparts. I took in the city happily, committing all the incredible towers and plazas and churches to my picture perfect memory. I thought maybe we should take some actual photographs, if we wanted anyone besides Edward to be able to see what we were seeing.

We found vacancies (I had ignored Alice's grumbled, "No surprise,") at the stylish Europe Hotel and we dropped our luggage off in the room. The sun was just setting and the streets were shrouded in shadow, so I had no excuses for keeping Alice inside the room. She dragged me from shop to shop selecting clothing and accessories not only for us, but for Bella, Rosalie, Esme, Renesmee, Edward, Emmett, Carlisle, and even Jacob. I wondered idly whether Jacob would actually wear garments Alice had selected for him, but realizing she'd buy them either way I kept the thought to myself. Finally, as all the stores were closing their doors and shuttering their windows, laden with so many bags and boxes it was impossible to be inconspicuous, we headed back to the hotel.

"We're going to have to buy another body bag to fit all this stuff in," I groaned as I surveyed the sea of purchases that took over our living room.

"But no one else at Dartmouth will have _this_," Alice cooed as she held up a delicately embroidered peasant blouse, fingering the intricate needlework. "And this," she added, dropping the shirt back into its bag and pulling out a soft brown sweater made from local sheep's wool, "will go beautifully with Nessie's eyes..."

I exhaled loudly and dropped onto the rather stiff sofa. It didn't give like the familiar white couch in the Forks house.

"Oh, don't pout. I bought you some things, too."

"Great," I mumbled, rolling my eyes. Just what I needed, _more_ runway attire. To my surprise, though, Alice pulled something pink and billowy out of a paler pink bag with flowers and loopy writing embossed on the side. My frown broke into a hopeful smile as I realized what she had purchased "for me."

"Well, I guess the day wasn't _completely_ wasted," I grinned, straightening up enthusiastically. I didn't waste much time wondering how and when Alice had bought _more_ lingerie without me noticing.

"One condition," she sang, flitting lightly around the bags and over to the couch. She threw herself gracefully across my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck and looking up into my face. The soft breezy fabric in her hands brushed against the bare skin of my neck, sending an enthralling chill down my body. For a moment the light was reflected in Alice's golden eyes and I saw, for the millionth time, her pure and beautiful soul. I didn't ask about the condition, I just waited for her to continue. I knew I wasn't going to like her request, whatever it was, but I also knew I would give in.

"There are three or four places we didn't get to today--"

I groaned, "How are there any stores left in all of _Belarus_ after today?" But I considered for a moment. I knew I would give her what she wanted regardless, but maybe I could get something -- else -- out of this too. "Okay," I said smoothly, standing and carrying her in my arms toward the TV. She looked confused but intrigued. If the decision depended upon her, and she had made no decision yet, she couldn't see what was coming, "We'll buy out the town tomorrow -- keeping all of the Minsk fashion industry in business through the rest of the year, no doubt -- but Wednesday we go _there_."

I nodded to a brochure for the Belavezhskaya Pushcha National Park that lay on top of the television. I had heard of the place before; it was a few days drive from Minsk, but it boasted the only surviving primeval forest in the world. It was immense and many areas had been untouched for millions of years. Just to set foot under such trees would be an awe-inspiring experience, even more incredible than walking through the streets trodden by kings -- we'd be walking through the woods trodden by dinosaurs! And even better, as I recalled they had a problem with an overabundance of wolves killing off the endangered bison that were native to the area. It would be perfect!

Alice reached for the brochure and flipped through it, unsure at first, but soon I saw her expression soften for the smallest fraction of a second. She immediately resumed her frown -- again I surmised she was employing her poker face -- but she sighed, setting the brochure back upon the television and twining her arms around my neck.

"All right, if that's what you want to do. It's only fair, I suppose, and we will have to hunt at some point."

I growled playfully at her and nuzzled her throat, giving her a light nip. A mock hunt. I walked toward the bedroom, far less impressive than the one in Paris, but Alice wriggled out of my arms and dashed into the bathroom before I crossed the threshold.

"I didn't buy this to have _it_ wasted, too!" She shouted from behind the closed door. I laughed and sat down on the edge of the bed. I could be patient.

* * * *

"When do I get to drive?" I grumbled, though I wasn't really upset. Watching Alice's enthralled face light up as we flew down the abandoned expressway from Minsk to Kamieniuki, the little town on the edge of the National Park, in the sleek red Audi R8 we had been unbelievably lucky to acquire in Minsk, was more exhilarating than actually driving myself. Despite its clear inferiority to the Porsche, Alice had willingly dropped enough cash to keep the rental place in the green for the next five fiscal years. We could easily have rented ten much more practical cars for the price Alice paid for this one, but as I watched her joyful smile and sure hands as we raced down the asphalt, I couldn't help but feel that it had been money well spent.

"If I have to go all the way to deserted Kamieniuki, the least you can do is let me drive," she sniffed, but I thought I saw her mouth twitch as she suppressed her smile. I nestled back into the leather seat, my elbow leaning out the open window (I figured it was deserted enough -- and we were moving fast enough -- that the glinting of the sunlight off my skin would go unnoticed, or at least unexplained. And how often did we get to do this? Barrel down a highway with beautiful scenery, a clear blue sky, and no one in sight with the windows down and the wind blowing in our hair? Even Alice had rolled her window down and was letting the wind ruffle her locks into a beautifully messy tumble of ebony. It would only make her look like a windswept model fresh off a photo shoot.). The wind swirled her scent past me and I breathed deeply, the knot in my stomach tightening and flipping. I moved my left hand and placed it upon her denim-clad thigh, patting her softly. She smiled as she shifted into the next gear and pressed her foot down harder on the accelerator.

When the sun had set, risen again, and was waning the next day, we arrived at the outskirts of the Belavezhskaya Pushcha National Park. The woods were thick and the trees were tall and knotted, not as green as Forks, but they seemed more solid somehow. There seemed to be a weight of ancient mystery beyond their tight-knit branches, but it might have just been my imagination.

Not interested in the well-trodden trails and gift shops populated by tourists, Alice found a circuitous road and drove around the edges of the park. She took this turn-off and that dirt road -- the Audi was _not_ made for off-roading -- until at last we arrived in a tiny rustic town surrounded by tall dark trees. Looking around at the dense gloomy vegetation I was reminded of the image "Peter and the Wolf" always evoked in my head. I wasn't sure if these were the primeval oaks I had come to see -- they didn't look that much more impressive than the cedars in Fork -- but I was happy to give the poor Audi a break.

I stepped out of the car, walking at human speed to open the door for Alice and then back to the trunk to pull out the dark car cover. It looked like automobiles were rare here, in this little agrarian village, and a shiny red sports car stuck out like a sore scarlet thumb. I glanced around, wondering if we should have parked a mile or so down the road and come in on foot.

I didn't usually question Alice, and I was all for a sleepy little herding village, but it seemed like an odd choice for the fashionista. This town looked like something straight out of a gypsy movie or turn-of-the-century painting. There were one or two rusted and faded working trucks, kin to Bella's old Chevy I thought, but other than that I saw no signs of automotive use. The road was dirt and muddy, and it was barely wide enough for one car. There were bicycles and carts along the sides of buildings, and I assumed this was the common mode of transportation. One set of power lines could be seen coming into the town from the very road we had traveled down, as well as one set of phone lines. The area we now stood in was a bit of a clearing with trees and brush encroaching on every side, already beginning to take back the ancient land that had once belonged to them. There was a large wooden building in front of us, rather like an old inn from black and white movies set in Elizabethan England. To the right and left and for a mile or so down the street were a number of smaller buildings, shops and tenant houses, I guessed. Dead chickens dangling by their feet and bundles of vegetables actually hung from the doorway of one of the shops. It was amazing. A city that time had forgotten. Practically the Europe of the nineteenth century. The awe I had felt at the sheer history and age of the buildings in Minsk was different than the awe I felt now. Things didn't seem _old_ here, rather it was as though we _were_ in this time period, a hundred or so years ago. Things did not seem ancient, rather they were new and just not of this century. It was like stepping out of a time machine except for the subtle reminders such as the cars and power lines. I realized the Audi was not just ostentatious here, it was futuristic. I looked at Alice as she walked to my side, my eyebrow raised in question.

"You wanted secluded," she said, leading me toward the larger building. With a start I realized it _was_ an inn. I wondered how they kept in business out here -- I highly doubted this town was on any map.

"Should I get the trunk?" I wondered as we maneuvered around the mud puddles and stepped onto the wide wooden porch that led into the inn.

"Hmm, that would be more normal, wouldn't it? Well, let's see if they'll take us first," Alice mused, though I was sure she had already seen that they _would_ take us, or why had she bothered coming here?

I opened the heavy rough-hewn door for her and we walked into the inn in the town that time had forgotten. The inside was not a disappointment. The first floor seemed to be the village saloon, practically everything carved and created from wood. In fact, the only colors other than the oakey brown of the building, furniture, and sparse decorations, were the dingy clothes and dirty skin of the people. There were twenty or so patrons in here, mostly grizzled men with shaggy beards and soiled clothes. Most the fabric looked homespun, though one or two of the younger males appeared to be wearing ratty t-shirts under their thin coats. The mystery of how the inn stayed in business was suddenly clear. A long bar ran along the wall and there were tables and chairs arranged around the room where the men were seated, some eating, all drinking a sickly brown liquid out of glass mugs. A plump red-faced woman in a grimy dress that had perhaps once been red stood behind the bar drying a glass on her apron. Everyone stopped talking and turned to look at us as we walked in. I was sure I had seen this moment in an old western, when the new well-intentioned sheriff strides into the saloon looking for the outlaw, and all eyes are on the newcomer waiting for trouble. The place even smelled of tobacco, strong liquor, and cut wood. I took a step forward, placing myself protectively in front of Alice.

"Russian," she whispered to me, pulling on my arm, "See if they speak Russian." For some reason still unbeknownst to me, Alice had {passed up/by} the rather useful languages of, say, Russian or German, or even Norwegian or Japanese, in favor of, in my opinion, much less advantageous languages such as Arabic, ancient Greek, and Crimean Gothic. I had always been a little amused by her ... less popular choices -- they seemed another quirk, another endearing idiosyncrasy in her character -- but they were certainly rather impractical. Though I spoke far fewer languages than anyone else in my family, aside from Emmett, at least the ones I _did_ know were useful, I thought. Still, when it came to Russian my vocabulary was rather limited. I was certainly no Edward or Carlisle when it came to linguistics. I credited the little Russian I did speak to my brief fascination with the Russian Revolution, being generally interested in all things war. I bit my lip as I tried to recall the proper syntax and pronouns for what Alice wanted me to say.

"Um," I ground my teeth, then straightened up and smiled, trying to look confident and friendly. These were the sorts of people I imagined grabbing their pitchforks and torches to lynch monsters just like us. I'd bet they actually _had_ pitchforks, too. Not that farm tools -- or any humans wielding them, for that matter -- worried me much, but I didn't relish the thought of bringing the Volturi to investigate the strange rumors of super-humans I would evoke by escaping, or destroying a towns-worth of human life protecting Alice. I didn't want to become the monster again that I had buried so deeply. Better to be friendly and avoid suspicion as much as possible.

The room was tense, but oddly more curious than frightened. Humans, especially superstitious ones, were always a bit fearful of us. The natural human reaction to our kind was to be drawn to us initially, then repelled -- usually with shivers of unexplainable fear. All these people seemed more surprised by the fact that _strangers_ were in their midst than that those strangers were superhumanly beautiful and pale.

All the people, that is, but one grizzled man in a darkened corner of the bar. He smelled slightly different than the rest of the patrons, dirtier somehow, mangy. He certainly _looked_ dirtier. His hair was matted and disheveled and his silvery-black beard was grungy and grew sparsely, like the old gold miners and mountain men of my human life. Despite the silver strands peppered throughout his hair, it was impossible to guess at his age. His skin was dark and dirty, like the rest of the humans, but he had an agility to him, an energy that suggested he was much younger than he appeared. He glared at us with dark, glittering eyes as soon as we entered. He rose quickly, grabbed the bedraggled pack at his feet, and stomped with heavy, angry steps out the back of the bar where, I assumed from the sudden gust of fresh air, another door was located.

What a strange reaction, I thought. Rather dramatic for never having exchanged so much as a "How do you do?" with us. Maybe he was the town outcast, of sorts, cautioning his peers about the dangers of the strangers in their midst. The lone voice of reason among all the other fascinated onlookers. I couldn't blame him for his reaction. He was right to avoid us.

The rest of the townspeople continued to watch us unabashedly curious. They didn't seem alarmed or rattled by their fellow's response. I allowed a little peace and calm to creep over them all, just in case the shivers and pitchforks were coming. The patrons' postures and breathing relaxed, but they continued to stare openly at us as I addressed myself to the woman behind the bar, who I ascertained was the innkeeper.

"_Vwee gevareetzea na Ruskum yesekyeh?_" I asked, though I was sure my accent was terrible.

She nodded, but still didn't speak.

"Ask her if we can have a room," Alice prompted. I wondered if this was really a place we wanted to stay, but I cleared my throat and asked amiably.

"_Yeest dahstukneh kohmnahta?_"

The woman only nodded again and continued to stare. I waited patiently, smiling politely, being careful not to flash my teeth too much.

"_Mahts_," a young man in his twenties or so, walked toward the woman. She didn't look at him, but he put his hand on her shoulder and moved his eyes to us apologetically. "I'm sorry, we do not get many visitors here," he spoke in a deep staccato voice, thickly accented.

"You speak English?" I asked, relieved. My Russian was conversational at best. It wouldn't be hard for Alice to surpass me, should she ever have the inclination.

"A little," the boy smiled.

"Well, we would like a room if possible," I continued, pulling out my wallet. I made it a habit never to carry more than a thousand dollars on me. I knew I wouldn't be pickpocketed or lose it, but when humans saw a thick wad of cash in an American's wallet, they tended to be rather unscrupulous with their charges. The boy's eyes widened as he saw the colorful Euros.

"Yes," he replied a little hesitantly, "You are lost?" The way his tone raised at the end made this a question. I chuckled and shook my head. This was an easy conclusion to come to, and I instantly liked the boy for his honesty in trying to make sure we really wanted to be here.

"No, we wanted something ... different," I gestured to Alice, "We wanted to go where there were not so many people."

I heard the boy's heart stutter and looked down at Alice. She was flashing him a brilliant smile. Why didn't her teeth scare people? I kicked her stiletto boot with my foot so swiftly that the humans did not notice any movement. Alice dimmed the smile a bit, but other than that she gave no sign that she understood my cautioning blow. Irrepressible, I thought.

The boy nodded then spoke to his mother in rapid Russian. I picked out a few of the words as he explained what we wanted and why we were here. It was impossible not to notice that every person in the room was eavesdropping on his conversation. With an effort the woman plastered a welcoming smile on her face and began to prattle on in a fashion that I doubted I would have understood even if I had been a native speaker. She bustled about grabbing a plain brass key and leading us up the stairs, pointing and gesturing as she did so. The boy followed behind us, shaking his head and shooting us apologetic glances whenever we caught his eye. The big woman nearly filled up the narrow hallway as she led us to, what I gathered, was the nicest room in the place. Her scent permeated the cramped space, but as the enticing scent of her blood was nearly overpowered by the smell of smoke, whiskey, and vinegar, it was quite easy to ignore the dull burn in my throat. Our room was at the very end of the hall and had a large window that overlooked the encroaching forest. Perfect, I thought. Easy access in and out of the building without being seen. We could feign a desire to hike, of course, but if we wanted to leave the room in the middle of the night or something, it might look a little odd.

The woman said something to us and backed out of the room.

"She will get ... how you say?" He moved his hands rapidly through his hair, back and forth, then rubbed them over his arms. I looked at him blankly. The woman reappeared though, carrying two thick white towels in her arms.

"Oh, towels," I smiled in thanks as she set them on the bed.

"Tow-els," the boy repeated, committing the new word to memory. "Bathroom is there," he pointed to a door down the hallway and I thought fleetingly that it was a good thing we didn't really need a bathroom. If Alice had been human she would have hated this place. "We make food down there," he pointed to the floor, meaning, I assumed, that the inn served food as well as liquor.

"Thank you," I said, handing him three hundred Euros. His eyes widened and he backed out of the room, apparently in shock. The ruddy-faced woman followed him, stealing furtive glances back at us as she walked away, forgetting to close the door behind her.

"Well, I guess they didn't notice the lack of luggage," Alice trilled, inspecting the room with a wrinkled nose as I lightly shut the door.

"I'll go get it in a bit," I sighed, sitting on the old-fashioned brass bed. I had wanted to see the woods and all, but this seemed a strange destination. Alice appeared to read my thoughts.

"It's the only close place with a ... hotel," she said the last word with distaste, as you could hardly call this place a hotel. Still, I thought as I looked around the small room, it was clean and we wouldn't really be in here much anyway. The building seemed to be made entirely of wood and either for personal tastes or lack of funds, none of it had been painted. It was like a rustic log cabin in the woods, the walls and floors and ceiling made from planks of light wood full of knots and dark spots and some rough edges. The bed seemed to be the only thing that wasn't made of wood. A wooden chair that I was sure was hand carved sat in the corner of the room near the window and a small wooden dresser was against the wall next to the bed. There was an electric lamp upon it and an ashtray. I lay back on the faded white quilt of the bed and examined the grains and knots of the wooden beams in the ceiling. I felt the mattress sink a little as Alice lay next to me, looking up too. "So this is where you want to spend your anniversary, is it?"

I rolled my eyes. "You chose it."

"It was the only place available."

"Well, when the townsfolk--" she giggled at my pitchfork and torches reference

"--have gone to sleep, we'll go check out the forest. I'm sure _that_ will be worth it."

The dark would make no difference to us; we could see as clearly at night as we could during the day. Only the colors and shadows changed. We lay on the bed for a while in silence, both of us lost in thought. Finally Alice sighed.

"Well, if we're going hiking I'll want to change."

I chuckled. Any excuse to model something new. I rose from the creaky mattress and walked toward the door.

"I'll go get the trunk."

Alice nodded and continued to frown as she rose and danced around the room, attempting to rearrange the sparse furnishings and decorations to make it more to her five-star liking. I shook my head in mock exasperation as I closed the door behind me and headed down the narrow hallway back toward the stairs and first floor. It would have been quicker to just go out the window, but it was more prudent to let the humans see me bringing in our luggage. We were strange enough to them without adding miraculous wardrobe changes to the list.

I started lightly down the stairs, wondering when I should make some noise so as not to startle the humans, but as I hit the second step I froze in my tracks, a statue chiseled from the hardest marble -- our kind's natural reaction to stress. I stared in shock and horror and my breath caught in my chest. A breadth of a second later Alice was behind me, frozen in place just as I was as she looked under my arm. She must have just had a vision of this moment.

As we stared at her, the other vampire turned slowly on her bar stool to stare back at us. I couldn't believe it. I was so shocked by her presence that all I noticed was her pale face framed by dark hair and burgundy eyes. Was this the spy the Volturi had sent to watch us? How had she found us? What did she want? What did she mean to do? If she attacked, I could certainly defend us -- even without Alice's help I could rip every limb from this stranger's body and burn her to ashes with her own bar stool before she took two steps. But I couldn't do it without the twenty-odd humans noticing. I didn't want to kill them all, too, but I certainly couldn't guarantee their safety if it came to a battle with another immortal. And then, what if one of us inadvertently spilled their blood? I thought I was strong enough to keep focused long enough to kill the stranger, but after that? Would I be strong enough to leave this place without feeding? My jaw locked like a steel trap. A good soldier knew his strengths as well as his weaknesses. I would not be strong enough, I knew it. And then what? The pitchforks and torches and a quick get away in the rental car and hopefully a hasty retreat back to Forks? No, I couldn't go back after that -- I would have broken the law. The Volturi would have a legitimate reason to attack the Cullens if I returned. I knew I'd never talk Alice out of leaving me for her own safety, but I would spare everyone else. We'd have to run...

All this flashed through my mind in less than half a second. The vampire on the bar stool had not moved, and the humans seemed to notice nothing amiss. I stayed frozen, not knowing quite how to proceed. I felt a little fear from the stranger, a little shock, a little excitement. I was puzzled. What did that mean? Surely a Volturi spy would feel that unnatural assurance they all seemed to feel, that sense of completely righteous justification. Perhaps some excitement for the fight, maybe fear at the sight of me -- most vampires had that reaction to me initially. It was clear I was experienced in battle, clear I was a survivor, clear I was dangerous. Still, her fear seemed like that of a child being introduced to a new intended playmate. Perhaps _shy_ was a better word. And the excitement had no edge of malice to it. In fact, there seemed to be no feeling of aggression in her at all.

The seconds ticked by, and still I did not move. I just wasn't sure what to do. Alice seemed to be waiting to follow my lead. After all, _I _was the warrior, the protector. This was supposed to be my area of expertise. Should I grab Alice and run? Leave our things and try to make it to the Audi before the stranger caught up to us? Would she follow? If she knew our destination, she had a much clearer path to the car than we did. If a fight was inevitable, perhaps it would be best to lead her outside, away from the humans. At least that way when it was over Alice and I could still -- hopefully -- return to Forks with no fear of Volturi enforcement... My mind whirled with indecision as my body remained frozen, my {insides at odds with my outsides.}

Then the stranger did something that would have nailed me to the floor had I not already been frozen in tension. She smiled. Her smile was so warm and brilliant that all my tense defensiveness felt suddenly brittle, as though she were melting away my fears. Instantly I felt a sort of protectiveness for _her_, reminiscent of the way I had felt for Alice when we had first met. I couldn't explain the feeling and I thought, as I had with Alice, that perhaps this girl had some sort of power that bewitched people, made them let down their guard. Alice's soft hand on my back made me resolve that letting down my guard was the last thing that was going to happen, whatever this girl's powers. I decided I would see what she wanted, but cautiously. There would be no way this little creature could do much damage to me, but if she were indeed sent by the Volturi, Alice might be her real target. Small as this female was, Alice was smaller. Alice's gift made her a formidable opponent, but if it came to sheer strength, this stranger would have her beat. If somehow she got around me...

I took each step slowly, with precision. I never moved my eyes from the girl, though my peripheral vision and my gifts took in the movements and the atmosphere of the rest of the room. The humans still seemed to notice nothing odd, but maybe Alice and I were being too quiet. That was all right with me. The longer we went unnoticed by them, the safer they were. The girl rose very slowly from her stool, being careful not to alarm us. Two predators approaching another of their kind, a sort of tense but polite dance.

Now that she was standing and I was over my initial shock, I took in more of the stranger's appearance. She was about five foot four with long thick black hair that fell to the middle of her back. It seemed it would be curly if it were not pulled down with such weight -- the ends curled under in a very model-esque sort of way. Her face was rounded and pale, as all our skin was, and her eyes were big and dark, framed by a thick fringe of long lashes. She was wearing a simple blue dress that looked, like most the clothing in this room, homemade, but her clothes were clean and fresh, as though they were newer and had seen less wear than the other garments. For all her prettiness, she could not quite be called beautiful. She must have been at least fourteen or so when she was changed -- her body had the soft curves of a woman -- but her face and her demeanor seemed like that of a young child. Not immature, but sweet and innocent. I imagined _everyone's_ natural reaction to her was protectiveness. She looked so ... childlike.

I sensed rather than heard Alice behind me. I made sure she stayed there, that I was between her and this cherubic stranger. I cocked my head a fraction of an inch, inviting the girl to speak. When she did her voice was high and ringing, like a schoolgirl singing.

"Hello," she said in shy, accented tones. So she knew something about us, at least. She knew we spoke English. What else did she know?

I nodded in greeting, but didn't speak. She hesitated, then took a small step closer to us. I didn't move. I was already tensed for battle, for anything.

"My name is Kristalene. Your name?" she asked politely, gesturing to us. Her English seemed better than the innkeeper's son's. I hesitated. I could feel no threat from her. She was a child, innocent and pure and simply curious. But it could be a trick. I had to keep focused, keep on my guard. I didn't answer. Finally I heard Alice's silver voice as she stepped to my side. I immediately put my arm in front of her to keep her behind me, keep her where I could protect her. She didn't push past me, but she didn't return to her place of safety either.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kristalene. My name is Alice and this is Jasper."

I waited for the girl's reaction. She seemed to relax a bit. The fear in her was ebbing, though she eyed me with some slight apprehension. She smiled at Alice and again I felt my anxiety melting.

"Why are you here?" I asked pointedly. Alice nudged me softly, apparently embarrassed by my rudeness. I ignored her. The girl looked at me, sincere surprise on her face.

"I ... live here," she answered, puzzled. It was my turn to look surprised.

"Live here?" I repeated. Her eyes were clearly a deep crimson, a sign that she was not a "vegetarian" as we were. How could she _live_ here if she fed on human blood? I felt her emotions again. There was nothing but honesty and curiosity in her, excitement.

"Yes. I was born a mile and a half down that road," she motioned to the east. I assumed she meant the narrow road I had seen that led past the shops and housing. "I grew up here. My sister still lives in the house."

"I ... don't understand," I admitted, my brow puckering. She didn't seem to be lying, but how could this be the truth? If she had been recently reborn -- recent enough that her sister would still be alive -- how could she live here without attracting attention to herself? Even if she were no longer a newborn, as was evidenced by the dark tint to her irises, if she fed on humans how could these villagers sit here so calmly in her presence, as though nothing were unusual? As though this were all perfectly natural? It should have been eerie -- like a child serial killer -- the thought that this young girl lived and murdered in this town, walking among the humans without them ever suspecting that behind her innocent smile was the heart of a monster. But it wasn't. I simply could not feel anything but protectiveness and curiosity for her. I shoved the ludicrous feelings back inside. I knew nothing of this stranger, and I would not let down my guard until I was certain she meant us no harm. I tested her emotions again, probing, trying to ferret out any feelings she might be trying to keep hidden. But there was nothing else there, I was sure of it.

Kristalene glanced over her shoulder, noting that the large red-faced innkeeper woman was watching us.

"Perhaps over here," she motioned to a small rounded wooden table in a darkened corner of the bar. The humans would not be able to hear us there. I nodded and followed her to the table, never taking my eyes off of her. It would have been unbearable for me to have an unknown vampire at my back, to be left vulnerable. Perhaps this girl really was as naive as she looked, for she did not feel any fear about the situation. I didn't understand.

She slid lithely into the handmade oak chair, looking expectantly at me and Alice. Alice smiled and sat across from her. Maybe she had seen visions of this girl, seen that she meant us no harm. Alice wasn't worried or frightened either -- she seemed as eager and intrigued as the stranger. I seated myself grudgingly and looked fixedly at the girl. She coiled a strand of her long, thick hair around her delicate finger absently.

"I was born in this town about thirty years ago," she began, watching mine and Alice's reactions. I kept my face expressionless. She continued, "I lived with my mother and sister -- my father died when I was young. We were quite happy, though, the three of us. Very close."

She smiled at us again, a little hesitantly, apparently looking for encouragement. I didn't move, but Alice smiled warmly at her and nodded. I wanted to glare at Alice for being so reckless, but I refused to take my eyes off the girl.

"I was out in the forest one day, gathering dry wood for the fire, when I saw her. She was so beautiful," she looked past us now, lost in the memory. So this was how she was changed. I knew how she felt. I remembered Maria, Nettie, and Lucy and how they had appeared to my human eyes. I waited silently.

"I thought she must be an angel -- she sparkled in the sunlight and she was so lovely. But then I saw her eyes. Red and glowing, like the eyes of _Satehna_, the devil. I was afraid then. I dropped the wood and I tried to run. Of course," she smiled wryly, glancing at us again, "I didn't get very far. She caught me. She threw me into a boulder. I lost consciousness -- I don't know for how long -- and then I began to feel the _oguom_, the fire. It was such pain! I yelled and screamed for the devil to kill me, to end my torture. But she did not. I thought she must have already taken my soul to Hell. I found out later I was in the woods for four days, all the while thinking I was burning in _Aht_. Finally, though, the pain ended, my heart stopped, and when I awoke I was new."

She seemed to search our faces, looking for understanding. Alice nodded kindly, though I knew she remembered nothing of her own transformation. I suppressed a shudder. _I_ remembered it all too clearly.

"There was new sight to my eyes, new smell to my nostrils, new thirst in my throat. I did not know what had happened, and _Satehna_ was gone, but I was so thirsty -- my throat burned like the fire still raged there."

I swallowed to quench the fire in my own throat, grinding my teeth in annoyance at my own weakness.

"I heard my sister, Anya, calling for me, though she must have been a mile away. At first I began to go to her -- I did not know how long I had been gone, but I knew she must be so worried. But when I saw her, my throat burst into flames. I was far enough away that her scent had not reached me, praise God, but just the sight of her..."

She put her head in her hands, as though admitting the darkest of secrets. Alice reached her hand toward her, as if to pat her soothingly, but decided to just rest it upon the table. I stared at the girl incredulously. Hadn't she just told us her sister still lived? Did she have another sister? As a newborn how could she have resisted attacking, even if it _was_ her own sister? Was it possible that Bella's self-restraint was not as rare as I had convinced myself? For goodness' sake, were _any_ newborns as bloodthirsty as I had been?

"What happened?" Alice prompted softly, trying to soothe the girl with an almost maternal understanding. The way mothers encouraged their small children to admit to a neighbor they had unintentionally broken a window.

Kristalene met Alice's gaze as though she were that child, but somewhat defiant. The child insisting to her mother that _she_ hadn't broken the window at all. "I ran." She said simply, raising her chin. I clenched the table in exasperation and it gave a little _crack_ as I snapped off an edge. It was hard for me to doubt the girl's sincerity now, but for Pete's sake! How could they all just _run away_?!

"So you didn't hurt her?" Alice asked, her tone more pleased than astonished.

"No. My throat burned, every fiber in my body ached for her blood, but she is my sister. Her blood is my blood. I made myself leave."

"But your eyes..." I interrupted. She _did_ feed on human blood, that much was clear. I still didn't understand how she could be here if that was the case.

"Yours are strange," she replied, studying first mine and then Alice's dark golden irises. She did not seem to be evading the question, just distracted by the subject.

"Why --?" She trailed off, apparently not wanting to be impolite.

"We ... don't drink human blood." Alice answered, watching the girl carefully. Kristalene's brow furrowed in incomprehension.

"But how do you ... what ..." she seemed to be trying to phrase her question as politely as possible.

"We hunt animals," Alice answered again. "Their blood keeps us strong, though it doesn't ... taste as good," she finished.

"Animals?" Kristalene still looked puzzled as she considered this. "I never -- I never thought of that." She seemed lost in thought.

"But _your_ eyes," I hinted, again ignoring Alice's elbowing at my brusqueness.

"Well, I do hunt humans," her look was confused, as though she did not understand my question.

"Yes. So how do you _live_ here?"

"What do you mean?"

I huffed a little in exasperation. "I mean, if you hunt humans, how do you live in this town? The people don't seem scared of you. How do you escape detection?"

She stared at me for a moment more, still trying to understand. Then she jumped slightly, startled.

"I don't hunt _these_ humans," she answered shrilly, as though the idea offended her, as though that point ought to have been obvious. "I have known most of these people my whole life! I would never ..." She stared at me incredulously.

I scowled. What was she talking about?

"Then who _do_ you hunt? Where? You can't go too far if you actually live here..."

"I --" she glanced to Alice, as though looking to be sure that one of us, at least, understood. Alice smiled back kindly, though I wasn't sure if she knew what the girl was getting at either. Kristalene returned her stare to me, "I hunt others, tourists usually. There are many over by Kamieniuki. Sometimes I go over to the Bialowieska Glade, or to Bialowieza in the winter -- I can travel far if I need too. Our kind is fast," she looked me over, as though wondering whether I was unaware of this fact, too.

"So, you feed on humans but you don't hunt people you know," I summed.

"Yes," she nodded, again looking at me a bit confused -- as though I might be a little slow for not immediately grasping this.

"So what if one of these people," I gestured to the room at large, "were to have an accident? What if you smelled their blood?"

She stared at me. Was this supposed to be obvious too? "I would run away, or hold my breath. I would never harm them."

"Amazing," Alice breathed, beaming. I would swear it was maternal pride stamped on her features. Maybe this girl _was_ some kind of bewitcher, and my hardened emotions made me more immune that open-hearted Alice. I didn't get it.

"So it doesn't bother you, taking human life, as long as the humans are strangers?" I retorted. I couldn't help it. Alice's unexplainable adoration of this girl made me defensive. Alice stomped on my foot with all her little strength and glared at me.

"Well..." Kristalene hesitated, again putting her face to her hands as though relaying an awful secret, "I never realized I had a choice," she breathed, almost inaudibly. "I thought myself rather, well, admirable for choosing to live as I have. But animals..." Again she seemed to be lost in thought.

"You _are_ admirable, darling," Alice interjected quickly, actually placing her hand on the girl's arm now. I watched every movement with the eyes of a hawk, but it was hard to keep the feelings of defensiveness and battle-readiness in me. The girl really was just so open and honest, so young and innocent. Again I thought maybe Alice had seen something I hadn't. She had had this same reaction to Bella when Edward had first seen her -- an inexplicable familiarity and _love_ for the human girl that seemed very odd to the rest of us, but Alice just knew more. She knew that one day she and Bella would be best friends. Just as she had known that someday she and I would be soul mates and lovers. I relaxed a bit. It was actually taking much more energy to mistrust the girl than it was to believe her -- my instincts told me she was innocent and honest, that I should protect her.

"Do..." Kristalene looked shyly at Alice, like a well-behaved child asking for a second cookie, "Do you think I could hunt animals with you?"

"Would you like to?" Alice looked like she would burst with excitement.

"I would like to try," Kristalene answered softly, "I would much prefer not to kill _any_ humans, I just never thought...I didn't know there was a choice."

I felt all my will to distrust and dislike the girl melting away, slipping from me like water through a sieve. All the apprehension and tension and animosity -- animosity! For this innocent child! The thought seemed comical now -- was dispelled in the snap of a finger by her shy smile, by her noble desire to follow the path Alice and I had chosen, a path that was difficult and unpleasant and defied our very nature, but a path which spared human lives. It was hard to explain, even to myself, how I could be so suddenly and immediately ... _fond_ of the child, but there it was, nonetheless. Maybe she had bewitched us both, but neither of our gifts were exposing that. She was just a lost little girl, doing the best she could, and she had already done very well. The will power it would take as a newborn, even as a mature vampire, to _live_ day in and day out among humans -- not even depriving yourself of the taste of their blood -- and never harm one of the ones in your midst... I really was the weakest link. I'd need to rethink my outlook on our existence. Again. Still, I could feel no resentment toward this child.

As I sat there staring at her, watching Alice inch her chair closer and fawn over her, it suddenly struck me. This was exactly what I had wished for. A child. The dark thick hair, the jet black lashes, the wide, striking eyes -- the little girl that we could take in as our own and teach the ways of our family. I actually froze on the spot with the shock of it. Was it really possible?

Of course, I knew nothing of the girl. She seemed very content to live here in Belarus, in this poor little farm town. I couldn't just assume she'd _want_ to be "adopted" simply because I had dreamed of her. She wanted to try the vegetarian lifestyle, but did that mean she would commit to it? I was already getting ahead of myself, but an image of the seraphic little girl in spotless ruffles and shiny Mary Janes, her hand linked in Alice's, traipsing through the woods around the big white Forks house flashed through my mind.

Alice noticed my statue-like pose. "Jasper?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," I replied, shaking my head. "If she wants to hunt, let's go hunt."

The girl smiled at me again, stunning, brilliant -- a cherub beaming. My body filled with that inexplicable feeling it had when I met Alice -- love. And hope. Hope that we _could_ have the family we had both dreamed of, dreamed of but never really thought could be reality. Maybe this little girl could be what made our life complete, even better than it had been before. Maybe...

I smiled back as I rose from the chair and gestured toward the heavy door.

"Ladies first," I beamed as I held the door for them. Alice took Kristalene's hand and they walked out, side by side, into the night.


	13. Chapter 13

13. UNEXPLAINED

"SO WHERE DO YOU THINK THE BEST PLACE TO START WOULD BE?" ALICE asked the bright-eyed angel child at her side.

"I -- I'm not sure," Kristalene stammered, looking at Alice somewhat helplessly. Her expression was so perplexed that I couldn't help but chuckle.

"We're the teachers here, Alice. We should lead."

Alice nodded, grinning, "All right, what should we hunt?"

"Don't you have a problem with wolves hereabouts?" I asked hopefully. Kristalene looked a little taken aback, but she nodded.

"Yes, they attack the wisent, ah, the bison. And they are an awful nuisance to the herders. Every few years they even attack the villagers. Sometime we will find ... pieces ..." she trailed off, either in disgust or sadness, I couldn't be sure.

"Wolves, then," Alice flashed me a knowing smile. She knew my preference for wolves, and vicious man-killing wolves were even better -- not only would they be more fun to fight, I would be doing a public service. I beamed.

"Well, then, let the hunt begin," I sniffed the air. I couldn't smell anything close by except the mud and damp dirt; the cut wood and smoke and whiskey from the inn, the scent of dirty humans; the living wood of the oaks and damp brush. If we were going to find wolves, we'd need to go farther into the forest. I held my hand out to Alice.

"Which way, my dear?"

She placed her tiny doll's hand in mine and looked first north and then east. Unable to decide based on the present, she closed her eyes and looked to the future.

"North," she replied decidedly. I smiled at Kristalene's bemused expression and led the way into the northern woods. We didn't run -- there was no hurry, and no scent to follow yet anyway. Besides, despite the surprise guest in our midst, the whole point of this excursion had been to see the primeval trees. I wanted to enjoy them slowly. Neither Alice nor Kristalene seemed impatient but adjusted their steps to my pace.

We walked in silence for a while as Alice and I took in the astonishing flora. Not thirty meters from the town the trees grew tall and massive, twisted and gnarled like something out of a Halloween cartoon. The sort of trees that the frightened protagonist imagines with glinting eyes and grasping hands. The trees were not bare, though, as they would be in the cartoon, but covered with small oily leaves. The scent reminded me of home, though the oak smell in Forks was almost overpowered by the pine and Sitka aroma.

"Amazing," I breathed, as we passed a tree that must have been a good sixty feet in circumference. This regal tree had stood here since before mankind had walked the earth, before vampires. This tree had witnessed the birth and death of a thousand species, a thousand religions, a thousand wars and empires and kings... It was incredible, the thought of that much time. I had been on this earth for a century and a half -- I had no great deference for antiquity -- but this... This froze me where I stood, a marble sculpture pondering the meaning of time and space and life. How ridiculous all our human dramas were in comparison to this eternal watcher, how petty every tragedy and joy and love and life and death seemed when you considered what this everlasting sentinel had witnessed.

"It makes you feel sort of small, doesn't it?" Alice asked in a voice barely above a whisper. She was frozen in awe, just as I was. She always seemed to know what I was thinking. I saw Kristalene's amused expression in my peripheral vision, a tiny smile playing around her full, plump lips. She was used to such trees -- this was nothing new or awesome to her. I brought myself back to the present. There would be time for the trees later, after all, and I could take in the scenery as I walked. Right now we had company.

"Everything makes you feel small, " I joked, swinging Alice up in my arms and then returning her lightly to the leaf-covered ground. "Onward?"

"To the hunt!" Alice agreed with a tinkling laugh. Even distracted as I was the sound was so beautiful, so familiarly comforting, my breath caught in my chest. We continued away from the village, deeper and deeper into the thickening forest.

After a few more moments' silence I turned to Kristalene. Her story had fascinated me, but there were some holes in it, some things I still did not understand. I hoped I wasn't offending her -- or Alice -- by inquiring, but I really was intrigued now.

"So, I wanted to ask," I began, glancing quickly at Alice to make sure I wasn't going to be elbowed or stomped on again. I was more concerned about the girl's feeling now that I trusted her, was even beginning to adore her (_That's silly,_ I told myself. _You know nothing _about _her_. Still, I couldn't deny my feelings, as absurd as they may be).

"Yes?" She encouraged, that half-smile playing across her lips.

"The one that changed you, the 'devil,' " Kristalene's lips pursed now and her brow furrowed. I continued quickly, "Why did she do it? Why did she change you if she was just going to leave?"

Kristalene was silent for a moment, her full lips pressed in a thoughtful pout.

"I don't know. I never found out, but I don't think she meant to change me. I have not met many ... like _me_ since I changed, but there was one, two decades past, that came through Bialoweiza. He was kind and explained things to me. I had gathered what I had become -- the dead heart, the icy stone skin, the thirst for human blood -- but there was so much I did not understand. So many of the legends I had learned as a child were not true. I did not burn in the sun, running water and crosses did not harm me," she grinned suddenly, brightening the dark glade with the warmth of her smile, "I go to church with my sister every Sunday. That was certainly a surprise. I thought if any of the legends were true, the aversion to the cross would be. After all, I am ... a murderer, a taker of lives. I should be damned..." Abruptly her smile was gone and a tense pain took its place on her childlike features. Again I felt the impulse to protect her, but Alice beat me to it.

"It's not your fault. You had no choice. But if you really are that upset about what you ... have done," she said this delicately, soothingly, "then we can help you."

"Fate," I said, reaching my hand out to touch the child, to cheer her up. I wasn't sure if she was ready for that, though. There had been fear in eyes at the sight of me. I didn't want to frighten her, this lost little girl. I let my hand fall lamely at my side.

"Maybe more than fate," Kristalene whispered, looking hopefully up at me, "Maybe God has finally answered my prayers. I go to church every Sunday and pray for forgiveness. I didn't think to pray for anything else, but maybe He _has_ forgiven me. Maybe He sent you to show me another way."

This theory took me aback and I could not keep the surprise from my face. Since my rebirth I had never been what anyone would consider religious. I knew Carlisle and Edward believed in God and maybe even Heaven and Hell, but I had always thought that it was, well, a moot point. We were never going to die, so what did Heaven and Hell matter? I had not chosen to abstain from human blood for fear that some righteous deity would sentence me to an eternity of torture and pain -- I had endured Hell on earth, and I doubted any god or demon could do worse -- I had done it because I revered human life and I wanted peace after my lifetimes of war. It might not be as, oh, admirable as Edward or Carlisle's reasons, but it had torn me apart to end those hundreds, maybe thousands, of lives; to feel their terror, their piteous fear, their hopeless anguish. At times I envied those that had been reborn without any gifts, like Peter and Charlotte; to just feed and live, thinking of the humans as no more than cattle. But perhaps I could never have been that removed. Even as a boy I had been horrified watching my father slaughter the bulls for the larder. They were living creatures after all -- I had watched them frolic in the pastures as calves, fed them sweet grain by hand as they grew, even patted and pet them when my father wasn't looking. I had grown attached, even though I knew their fate, their purpose. They only lived to die, to be sustenance for humans. Slaughtering humans was far worse. They were born to die, too, but not like this. Not in terror and panic, not ripped from their loved ones and drained to limp, ashen corpses. Living, sentient creatures were bad enough, but having to _feel_ everything they felt, having to _live_ their deaths with them -- it had become unbearable. I had abstained so I could live with myself. I had stuck to it for Alice.

My religious views, as they were, were much broader than Carlisle and Edward's. I might believe in Fate, in destiny. I didn't think much about God and Hell. But I certainly had faith in humanity and love. Humans were capable of appalling atrocities, but they were also capable of awe-inspiring acts of selflessness and kindness. Despite the many awful events I had witnessed, both as a human and as a vampire, I never lost faith that mankind was fundamentally good. In the way that my father and brother had never seen anything to convince them that God did not exist, I had never seen anything to convince me that people were not decent, underneath it all.

Kristalene waited for us to respond. When neither of us did she appeared a little puzzled. Alice's views weren't exactly aligned with my own, but she wasn't really religious either. I suppose you could call us both "agnostics." Kristalene shrugged and continued her story.

"Anyhow, the old one in Bialoweiza, he explained many things to me. He told me that the bright red eyes mean 'newborn.' The one that changed me must have been a newborn, and, as I well remember from my own newborn days, it would have been almost impossible for her to stop feeding once she had tasted my blood. As she did not stay to befriend me, I can only conclude that she did not change me intentionally. I think she must have been beginning to feed on me, and then something happened. Perhaps something scared her off."

I frowned. I couldn't imagine anything "scaring off" a newborn vampire in the middle of a meal. And I also couldn't imagine a newborn with the self-control to intentionally change a human. Quite the mystery.

"Well, I may never know," Kristalene sighed, waving her hand dismissively. We walked another few minutes in silence.

"What about your sister?" I asked. There were still many questions that lay unanswered. If she was willing to answer them, I was going to ask.

"My sister?" Kristalene repeated politely. I rephrased my question more specifically.

"You never harmed her. You say you even see her every Sunday. What did you tell her about ... what you are? What you do? And the townspeople, for that matter. If you have known them all your life, surely they were suspicious when you returned suddenly ... different, when you did not age ... " The questions fell out in a rush until I caught Alice's warning glance and bit my tongue. It was just all so fascinating. In all my years, all the others I had met, I had never seen anyone live like this child did. I didn't think anyone but "vegetarians" _could_ live like she did. And to stay in one place for thirty years ... Surely this broke the law. Surely the humans had become suspicious. Why had the Volturi not come? I shuddered at the thought and quickly locked my eyes on the lovely little girl at my side.

"My sister and I are very close," she repeated, looking past the trees as though at something far away, "after I saw her that first day, and ran away, I was heartbroken. It took me a while to realize what I had become, but even before I knew, I knew I could not be around Anya. Just the thought of her skin, her pulsing blood, her heartbeat -- " she broke off in disgust, anguish. Alice took her hand and squeezed it gently. Kristalene smiled softly at her.

"I stayed away for two years. It broke my heart to do it. I knew my mother and Anya must be so worried, must think I was dead. I told myself _that_ pain was better was better than putting them in danger. But finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I thought that I could go and just look, just make sure they were well. If I had been strong enough to run away on the day of my birth, surely I would be strong enough now, two years later. I did not know about newborns yet, but I could feel that things had changed -- my strength had faded some, my thirst was no longer insatiable. I could control myself near humans, though it took effort.

"So I returned here to Viselkeizedevia and I approached my mother's house slowly, cautiously. Every moment I checked to see that I was in control, that I would not harm my mother or sister. I saw Anya sitting on the back steps, her head in her hands. She was crying. She seemed so sad. My heart broke again and all I wanted was to rush to her, to put my arms around her, to tell her everything was all right and I would take care of her. But I knew I couldn't do that. She was alive, she was healthy, if not happy, and I had seen what I had come to see. I told myself I must leave and let her go on with her life.

"But Anya and I were always closer than most sisters. I told you her blood was my blood. We have always been connected, somehow. My mother used to say that the angels had given us a piece of the other's mind so that we could know each other's thoughts. As I turned to leave I heard Anya call my name.

"She could not have seen me or heard me, for I was well hidden and I made no sound, but somehow I knew she was there. I whirled around to see what had happened. She had not seen me, but she had risen and was glancing around wildly, trying to find me, sensing that I was near. I couldn't leave her after that. I said a prayer to God and I went back to her."

"What did she do?" Alice breathed. I realized I was holding my breath. I could only imagine what my human family would have done if I had returned to them as a vampire. I didn't think they'd be quite as appalling as Carlisle's father, but I doubted they would have welcomed me back with open arms.

"She ran and threw her arms around me as soon as she saw me. I froze and held my breath. I didn't want to risk hurting her. She pulled away when she felt my skin, my rigid stance. I was so afraid -- not only that I might harm her but that she might be frightened of me, might not want me anymore. The thought of losing my Anya was almost unbearable. Having her think I had died was a million times better than having her run away from me in terror. I rebuked myself for not having stayed away -- it was pure selfishness to return.

"But Anya was not frightened. She was shocked, curious, awed, but she was not afraid. Whatever I had become, I was still her sister." Kristalene sighed slightly and I relaxed my tense posture. Though I knew the story must have a happy ending, I was so emotionally invested in this girl that her pain would have caused me pain. I was so relieved to hear that the sister she loved so much had not turned her back on her but instead, incredibly, had accepted her with open arms.

"I told her everything I knew, everything I suspected. She listened in amazement, even sorrow, but never once did she flinch away from my cold hard touch or the awful deeds I confessed. It was incredible. I had always known Anya was one of the most compassionate people I had ever met, but I had never dared hope she'd be this understanding, this accepting.

"It wasn't until I asked how she thought our mother would respond to all of this that she showed any intense pain at all.

" '_Mahts_,' she said, not meeting my eyes, 'has gone to _Papa_ and the angels. It happened in Spring... I needed you so, but I thought -- I thought you were dead, too. I was beginning to think God had forsaken me, that I had angered Him somehow. How could He take everything from me? But now He has brought you back to me, brought you home. _Bahkvela Vok_.' "

Alice shook her head and looked as though she would cry. She rubbed at her eyes and blinked.

"So you told you sister everything?" I asked, amazed.

"Yes. And I am so glad I did. I had thought God had forsaken me, too, but He reunited us. Even as a monster I could be loved. My Anya and I could be together, and I could bear anything as long as I had her love. I began my new life in Viselkeizedevia, living, for the most part, in the house I was born in."

"I'm so glad it all worked out," Alice trilled, wrapping her arm around Kristalene's waist. I nodded, but then my other question occurred to me.

"But what about the villagers?" I could understand Anya accepting and still loving Kristalene. They were the closest of sisters, after all, and seemed to have a very deep bond. But could it be possible that the townsfolk were so understanding? It didn't seem likely, and yet I was starting to believe this child was capable of winning anyone over, just as Renesmee seemed to be.

"Well, that was an accident really," she smiled a half-smile, "There was a boy Anya and I grew up with, Sasha, who we had known our whole lives, played with as children. One day when Anya was in town Sasha came to the house to call on her -- I think he was a little enamored of her. Anyhow, he came to the house and knocked on the door. Anya had not told anyone about me, that I had come back or that I was different. No one knew anything. So I didn't answer the door, I hid inside in the shadows. Sasha knocked again and again -- he was very persistent -- and then he went around to the back of the house and peered in the windows. Perhaps he would have gone away, none the wiser, but he saw my rosary laying on the table." She fingered the ancient golden cross around her neck absently, lost in the memory.

"It's an heirloom, it's been in my family for generations, passed from eldest daughter to eldest daughter. I had worn it since I was a child, and Sasha recognized it immediately. He knew something was going on, then. The rosary had never been found, though search parties had scoured the woods for some sign of me when I had disappeared. He began calling my name, banging on the window.

"I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't believe he'd be as ... tolerant of what I had become as Anya was. I remained hidden, hoping he would give up and go away. But, as I said, he was persistent. Finally I decided it would be better for me to tell him _something_ than for him to concoct his own story -- there are no secrets in Viselkeizedevia, and I thought unrestrained rumors would cause a lot of distress for my sister. So I took a deep breath, breathed through my mouth, and opened the door."

I heard Alice's sharp intake of breath, as though we were watching a horror movie. I would have laughed at her if I hadn't been just as riveted.

"Sasha was speechless when he saw me. I invited him in -- I wasn't going to add daylight on my skin to the list of frightening features -- and though he seemed wary he came. I tried to act natural, offering him a seat, tea, bread. He just stared at me with wide, shocked eyes.

"Finally he spoke. 'What --' he stammered, 'What happened to you? We all thought you were dead -- we held a ceremony for you at the chapel. Your mother, Anya ...' I swallowed and spoke, trying to keep my voice as human as I could.

" 'I ... wanted a change. I left.' He glared at me then, knowing I was lying. Everyone knew there was no way I would leave my mother and sister without a word -- not by choice.

" 'We looked everywhere,' he accused, 'there was no trace of you. No footprints past the woods, no ... blood. We thought maybe the wolves had gotten you, or that you had fallen in one of the quarries.' "

I nodded. Belavezhskaya had once been well-known for its iron mines and tar production. Even today the government was constantly under pressure from the mining companies to relinquish areas of the forest for mining. I had no doubt there were numerous abandoned mines and quarries throughout the park that would be deathtraps to any hapless wanderers who were not aware of their existence.

"I paused, unable to decide what to do. Sasha continued to glare at me, and I knew he would not rest until he had the truth -- or some of it anyway. So I told him."

"You told him?" I choked incredulously. How easy this choice seemed to have been for her! Had she never heard of the Volturi? Even if she wasn't worried for her own safety -- afraid the villagers would run her out with the very pitchforks and torches I had joked about -- wouldn't she care about _their_ safety, her sister's?

"Well, I told him about _Satehna_, the fire, what had happened when I awoke. How I heard Anya and was afraid that I might harm her. How I fled. I told him about my cold skin and immense strength and speed. I told him I no longer needed sleep. He listened in amazement, not doubting my words. It didn't occur to him to ask what I ate, and I did not volunteer the information. That was probably my saving grace."

I nodded in understanding now, though I still had questions. So the people knew she was _something_, something _different_, but they didn't know exactly what. She had left out the crucial information that would have frightened them, would have turned them against her. I didn't blame her for the omission -- it was prudent, really, smart. It was necessary.

"As I expected, by the next day the whole town had heard the story. Nearly everyone came calling in the next few days, always with some excuse about borrowing a recipe or lending a tool or bringing Anya fruit or vegetables or cloth. I didn't mind, though. I was so happy to see the people I had missed, the people I thought I could never see again. They were all shocked by my appearance, but none of them seemed really frightened of me. After all, they had known me since the day of my birth -- they had been present at my baptism, been to my birthday parties, played with me and shared dinner at my house. I was a native daughter, I suppose you could say. Whatever I had become, I did them no harm and they loved me still. And it has been that way ever since." She finished with a warm smile in our direction.

"And when you didn't age?" I pressed, wanting every detail.

"They just chalked it up to the strangeness of whatever I had become. I do not usually go among them in daylight or move at normal speed or show my strength, but some of them have seen it," Kristalene looked down at the floor, either with guilt or modesty, I couldn't be sure, "You see, about ten years ago there was a fire in the chapel. A farmer, Yuri, had knocked over some of the altar candles and one of the tapestries had caught on fire. It had been a dry year, the longest drought in twenty years, and the church went up like kindling. Yuri, Father Grigory, and another farmer, Vasily, were trapped inside. Half of Viselkeizedevia came, trying to put out the fire, trying to get the doors open to rescue them. A beam from the roof fell and was pressing against the doors; no one could budge them. I could hear the priest and the men screaming, though I was two hundred meters away in the forest, calling for help. I could smell the smoke on the wind. No one could do anything, no one else could save them. I didn't even think about it -- I ran to the doors at top speed, ripped them from their hinges, leapt over the beam and carried the Father, Vasily, and Yuri out into the air. I'm sure you know that this was not difficult, not at all impressive for our kind, but the people were amazed. In fact," she giggled suddenly, the sound ringing off the vast tree trunks, "we nearly lost the entire building because everyone was staring instead of putting out the fire. Of course, the news spread like wildfire," she giggled again at the unintended pun, "As I said, there are no secrets in Viselkeizedevia. They all know I am different, but they have accepted me."

"Incredible," Alice said, returning the smile. She was so happy that things had worked out for this little girl, against all odds. I grinned too. My faith in humanity was justified again. However different this girl was, she was still just little Kristalene to them. I suddenly realized why all the patrons at the inn had seemed more curious than frightened by our presence; they were used to our kind -- one of us at least -- even if they didn't truly know what we were.

I wondered briefly whether she didn't, in fact, have some kind of power that bewitched at least the people in her village. It would make sense. If she had been so close with her sister, cared for those in her village so much, as a human, it could be that those attributes were intensified when she was reborn (if Carlisle's theory was correct). Even though she had saved the priest and the farmers, the villagers' regard could have gone either way. It wouldn't be the first time someone different, benevolent as they may have been, was ostracized or feared by the very people they tried to help. Humans could be cruel. They could be closed-minded and petty. They could lash out and harm those that they didn't understand. But these people didn't. Perhaps they were just more noble, more tolerant than other so many other humans, but perhaps it was something else. Something more. They had cared for the child as a human, they would care for her all that much more with this power. Maybe that was how she restrained from feeding on them so easily, too. She cared so much for them, her power was the will to protect them however she could. So very interesting. Someone's "gift" being _love_. Not so different from Esme, I supposed. The ability to love so much, that you could defy nature -- defy the humans' inclination to fear or hate, defy your own nature to hunt... Love protecting yourself and the ones you cared for. I thought of the Volturi again.

"And no one ... _else_ ever came here that was ... upset that you had told everyone?" I wasn't quite sure how to phrase my question. If she did not know about the Volturi, it may be that very ignorance that had kept her and her village safe. I wasn't going to endanger -- or frighten -- her unnecessarily.

She looked at me blankly. "Anyone else? Well, from time to time tourists or scientists or photographers come through, but of course no one tells them about me."

"Of course not," Alice interjected quickly, shooting me a warning look. I was happy to drop the subject, though I thought we may need to warn her of the possible dangers before we left.

"They have all been very supportive, actually." Kristalene added defensively, misunderstanding the intent of my question. "I think some of them think I am an angel of sorts, somehow blessed." She laughed wryly. "I know the Father thinks so. I am glad I never told them ..." she trailed off, suddenly sad again.

"Well, we are going to remedy all that unhappiness, little Kristalene," Alice trilled, taking the girl's hand again and skipping off deeper into the woods. I smiled and followed after her, sniffing the air as I went. Now that the most burning questions were answered, I felt more at ease to focus on the hunt.


	14. Chapter 14

14. HUNT

AFTER ANOTHER MILE OR SO I CAUGHT THE SCENT OF A SMALL WOLF

pack about fifty meters to the northwest.

"Do you smell anything?" I asked Kristalene, watching her face with near adoration as she sniffed the air and cocked her head to the side, trying to determine which scent I was referring to.

"I smell _lots_ of things," she finally answered, frustrated. I chuckled softly.

"Well, once you realize what we're hunting, you'll be able to identify and isolate the scent later. To the northwest, by the boulders. Do you smell it?"

Again she sniffed the air, listening intently, her brow furrowed in concentration. I couldn't help but feel a warm affection for the girl, reminiscent of feelings I had had watching Renesmee focus fixedly on one of her many endeavors. I listened closely so I could better guide her. I could hear the wind coming out of the trees into a small clearing, hitting the side of the massive rocks. I could hear the three distinct adult heartbeats, and three lighter, faster heartbeats. Pups.

Finally Kristalene's head jerked up and she looked at me, her nose wrinkled.

"_That_?" she asked, trying to keep the distaste from her voice. I couldn't help laughing out loud. Even Alice chortled at her reaction.

"Well, they don't smell as good as humans," Alice conceded, still grinning.

"Or taste as good," I muttered. Alice elbowed me swiftly in the ribs.

"So, we're hunting wolves." Kristalene sighed loudly, then straightened determinedly. "Let's go, then."

I led the way, moving like a wraith in a wide arc so I would approach the wolves downwind. We all moved noiselessly, ghosts in the night. I felt the "click" in my head as my body switched over to instinct, to hunter. I could hear the light breathing of an adult -- a mother -- with the soft sighing breaths of the pups nearby her. I heard the large male shifting in the leaves, pacing, then laying down, keeping guard over his pack. I heard the deep heavy breaths of another wolf -- I couldn't be sure if it were a lesser male or another female -- already fast asleep. And I heard another, smaller than the male, circling her bed, matting down the leaves before she flopped down into them. The pack was bedding down for the night.

Alice, Kristalene, and I came to a stop on one of the massive boulders above the small band. We stood as still as statues, becoming an outcropping of the stone. We made no sound and the wolves couldn't smell us. This didn't look like it was going to be quite the exciting fray I had been hoping for, but I placated myself that it would be a good exercise for Kristalene's first animal hunt. The wolves were quite large, I saw with some satisfaction. Far bigger than those in Forks or even in Alaska. They didn't look quite large enough to drag off and devour a human, but maybe these were small specimen. The thought brightened my outlook.

Just then the wind shifted to the west and the leader and two of the females became rigid. The alpha jumped to his feet, pacing and looking around. He let out a long wailing howl -- a warning, whether to us or the pack I couldn't be sure. The mother shoved the pups to alertness and dashed off towards the woods. I let her go. I had no desire to kill puppies, and depriving them of their mother at this age would be tantamount to a death sentence.

"It's now or never," I grinned devilishly at Kristalene, then launched myself like a bullet off the stone precipice at the grand male wolf.

I heard the sleeping wolf, a female I could see now, yelp in surprise and take off into the trees. The other female seemed to have a little more gumption. She growled defiantly at Alice, who circled her like a shark, waiting to pounce. I heard the whoosh of wind as Kristalene took off into the trees after the retreating female. I focused all my attention back on the male. He was quite large, I noted with approval, and mean. He was defending his family, and he would fight to the last breath to protect them. I admired his courage, his protectiveness. Edward had a theory that our hunting preferences were indicative of our hunting styles, our personalities. Emmett preferred bears, and his similarity to the beasts was clear. Bears were all about brute strength, instinct. They relied purely on their massive build and power, using little or no strategy. If they got their arms around you, got you in their grasp, there was no escape, but for all that they were easily outwitted. Edward on the other hand, was leonine, catlike. He perhaps strategized _too much_. He would circle and circle and lie in wait for his prey, always thinking, always planning. He was quick and efficient, but I thought he lacked a little of the gusto of the hunt.

Wolves, on the other hand, were a happy medium. They were strong and fierce, but they planned their attacks. They could work as a group -- the alpha directing the rest of the pack in pincer movements or steering the prey into a simple but effective trap -- but they could also hunt independently, relying on their instincts and sharp mental faculties to catch their prey. They could outrun them or trap them. They could force their backs up against a wall or circle and spring. They had a wide array of strategic ploys at their disposal, and they were quite capable of using whichever the situation demanded. I liked wolves. Not only their hunting style, but their loyalty to their packs as well. They could survive on their own, but they would defend their families to the death without a second thought. There _was_ no thought in those situations -- it was instinctual.

But, as much as I admired the wolves, and this massive alpha before me, I _was_ a vampire, and I _was_ thirsty. As many Native Americans believed, it was a sign of respect to give this great animal this heroic death. Like a warrior, dying in battle. It was the kind of death I would wish for.

The silver-gray fur of the beast was glittering in the light of the moon -- nearly full -- his hackles up. His huge curved fangs gleamed in the light, bared and menacing. A long, low, uninterrupted growl was rumbling from his throat, threatening, warning me to back off. I saw no fear in him, though he must sense I was a worthy opponent, another fierce predator. We both circled, both lowered in hunting crouches, ready to strike. I debated whether I should attack first or let him come to me. The tense dance continued, each of us drawing closer, each of us readying for the fight.

Suddenly his huge muscles tensed and he launched himself forward at me, jaws snapping and gnashing. The force of his leap threw us both backward and I slammed into the granite boulder behind us. It didn't hurt, of course, but the wind was knocked from my body. It was an unpleasant sensation. A shower of pebbles fell over us as I wrestled with the immense wolf, a good hundred and fifty pounds of scratching ripping teeth and claws, and probably six feet in length from nose to tail.

Unfortunately for the wolf, all his strength and razor teeth were useless against my skin -- he may as well have been attacking the rock face for all the progress he was making. He seemed in some sort of frenzy, though, not becoming discouraged or surprised by his lack of headway. I knew how he felt. In the heat of battle, for a good soldier, the fight was all there was. Pain, blood, hopeless odds -- none of that mattered, none of that even registered. You fought, tooth and nail, until you won or you were dead. That was the way of a warrior.

I wrestled with the wolf for a few minutes, enjoying the battle, the fray. In the end, though, I began to feel it was cruel to draw out his inevitable death. I allowed him one last attempted tear at my throat, his teeth scratching across my skin with a sound like nails on a chalkboard, and then, with his throat only centimeters from my mouth, I finally sank my teeth into his warm flesh like a steel trap snapping shut. I felt my jaw tear through the fur and thin skin, the layer of fat, through the sinew and tough muscle. The hot blood spilled over the wound, running down my chin and neck, and the wolf gurgled, shuddering involuntarily. Slowly the tension left his muscles, with a spasm or two of ebbing life, and he slumped against my chest, pressing me down with his inert weight. I extricated myself from his massive frame and drank the blood hungrily. It _wasn't_ as good as human blood, but it was certainly the best predator I had yet discovered. Thick, meaty, warm. Not the tangy, slightly "off" taste of deer and elk.

I drained the wolf and wiped my chin and throat. I was usually pretty good about keeping my clothes clean -- Alice insisted upon conserving the designer garments -- but I had been more intent on the kill than usual and I hadn't been as careful. Unfortunately the ferocious canine had ripped large gashes into the chest and sleeves of my shirt, and a long tear ran down my slacks the length of my thigh. Oh well, I sighed, quickly dismissing the injuries to the clothing. It would give Alice an excuse to shop. Again.

I turned to see Alice reclining against the trunk of a young oak watching me with an amused expression.

"Did you enjoy that?" she smirked, then pursed her lips as she noticed the tattered clothing. "Oh, Jasper, do I need to dress you in a _smock_ when you hunt? For Pete's sake, that was my favorite Moschino -- the color was perfect with your skin." She sighed dramatically. I grinned, though, unrepentant. In the blink of an eye I was at her side and had swooped her into my arms. I nuzzled her cheek and pressed my lips to the tip of her nose. She tried to push me back, no doubt to keep her own clothes spotless.

"Like you don't have this shirt in eight different colors back at home," I grinned.

She held the exasperated look on her face, but I could tell it took her some effort.

"But the 'sand dune' was my favorite," she repeated, pulling at a tatter of fabric on my chest. I rolled my eyes, turning her toward the woods.

"I guess the 'desert tan' will have to do, then." She sighed again. "So where's Kristalene?" I asked, following her scent a few meters into the treeline. I felt a slight -- and unreasonable -- pang of fear with her out of my sight. Maybe Edward wasn't so ridiculous about Renesmee after all.

"She ran off after the other female," Alice purred, smiling smugly, "She did very well. Caught her in about two seconds, but she was a little hesitant to _taste_..." her proud smile faltered a moment, her brow furrowing slightly.

I saw Kristalene another six yards into the woods and swiftly walked to stand by her, setting Alice down lightly on the mossy loam. Kristalene was posed over the lifeless wolf, apparently not quite sure how to proceed.

"What's the matter?" I asked, concerned.

She met my gaze and her expression was so comical I had to laugh. Her nose was wrinkled again in distaste, her brows angled in a martyred expression.

"It --" she hesitated, "it doesn't smell very good."

Alice laughed aloud too.

"It takes some getting used to," she agreed, patting her student encouragingly on the back, "but I promise, it's not that bad." I didn't respond. Although I didn't mind animals now -- though they would never compare to humans -- the first few years I had converted to the "vegetarian" diet I had been revolted. It was like going from filet mignon to dog food. It was edible, but it was hardly _good_.

Kristalene gave her a skeptical look, but, with one more hesitant movement, bent down and took a long gulp of the wolf's blood. She raised her head, seeming to smack the aftertaste on her tongue before looking back to us.

"Well, it's not _terrible_," she allowed. The dark woods rang with the peals of mine and Alice's amusement.

* * * *

"So tell me about your lives," Kristalene said, drawing absently in the dirt with a long oak stick. The three of us sat near a small brook, downwind from a herd of the endangered bison that were sleeping obliviously in an open field two hundred yards away from us. Every now and then they would shift or sigh, sometimes standing and moving to a different spot, but they didn't notice our presence. Alice lay with her head in my lap, turning a pebble over and over in her smooth hands as I brushed my fingers through her short locks.

"What do you want to know?" I asked.

"You are American. Where do you come from? How were you changed? Did you always know each other or did you meet ... later? How did you know to hunt animals..." she looked down, embarrassed by her onslaught of questions. I was sure if she could blush she would. I grinned. She must be just as curious about us as we had been about her. She had more self-restraint than I did -- obviously -- to have reigned in her curiosity for so long.

"I was born in Texas," I began, and gave her the brief history of my human life and my own transformation. I hesitated a bit when I got to the part about my role as Maria's "newborn babysitter" and instructor -- and executioner. I was almost _afraid_ that she would be frightened of me if I told her the truth about what I had been, what I had done.

Alice, though, squeezed my hand comfortingly and interjected, "Jasper was born in a different sort of place. He didn't know there was anything else, like you. His creator was greedy and vengeful, she brought war and death with her. She used Jasper to help her -- as I said, he didn't know there was anything else."

I wanted to thank her for the euphemistic portrayal of the darkest parts of my past, but I couldn't quite meet Kristalene's eyes. It wasn't a lie exactly, but Alice made it sound like I had no choice, like I was a prisoner. In truth, there was a part of me that had reveled in the battles, in the bloodshed. I was good at what I did and it was exhilarating rushing headlong into a throng of gnashing newborns and ripping and tearing and crushing until I was the only one left standing. It was sick, sadistic, not something I was proud of, but that had been the truth of it.

"I've done some awful things," I admitted in a whisper. "It's true I didn't know any other life existed, but it was nearly a hundred years before I even went to see what else was out there. I'm hardly an innocent victim," I laughed wryly, snapping a shard of stone by my feet into pieces with a twist of my fingers. One of the bison looked up at the noise then slowly settled back into sleep.

"But you did choose something else," Alice pointed out, stroking my hand. "Maria is still in Texas, still fighting and killing. She chose hate." She sat up and held my chin, pulling my face so that I had to meet her gaze. "You chose love."

"Yes," I nodded solemnly, "I chose you." I kissed her tenderly for just a moment before I remembered the child in our midst and recollected myself. "Yes, eventually I left and tried to find a different life. I was still depressed, though. I thought if I just got away from the fighting and hatred I would be content, but I wasn't. I don't know if the old one in Bialoweiza ever told you, but many of our kind have ... abilities. Things they can do other than the strength and speed and all that."

Kristalene looked puzzled, so I continued, "Well, some of our kind can _do_ things. Alice and I both can." She looked intrigued, almost awed.

"What can you do?" she asked slowly, but I could feel the excitement behind her words. Her eyes were bright with curiosity. Alice smiled.

"Well, I can control people's emotions, and feel them as well. I can make you calm or excited, happy or sad, and I can feel what you are feeling."

"Really?"

I raised my eyebrow and the corner of my lips in a grin. I let my power creep over her, feeling it like an invisible sliding fog, almost oily but thick, somehow, rolling over the child in front of me in a mode I could nearly taste, an intangible _something_ I could feel, a "sixth sense," as it were. Some humans had a touch of my ability, a hint. Many humans could just "sense" others' emotions in a way they could not explain, in a way they could just _feel_. Intangible, untouchable, unquantifiable, but there.

Kristalene's excited posture relaxed, her shoulders slumped, and her eyelids drooped.

"Jasper," Alice chided me, pushing her tiny hands against my chest in a motion that was meant to be rough. I recalled the fog abruptly, grinning. Kristalene shook her head, dazed, then snapped back to attention, staring at me wide-eyed.

"Wow," she whispered, "That's ... how ... how do you do it?" she asked, still awed. I chuckled.

"I don't know, it's just something I can do. My father has a theory that we bring something of our strongest human characteristics into this life with us when we are changed. I was very ... charismatic as a human. I could always convince people to do what I wanted, to talk them into feeling what I wanted. Now I don't need to talk." I shrugged, smirking at her obvious fascination. Alice rolled her eyes.

"Show off," she teased, smacking my shoulder with the back of her hand.

"Now Alice's gift is really something," I boasted, proud of my little angel, "_She_ can see the future."

I grinned while I watched that sink in.

"The future?" Kristalene asked, even more amazed.

"Well, it's not exactly like that," Alice replied modestly, "I see the path someone's on while they're on it. I see what will happen with each decision they make."

"And the weather, and the stock market, and fashion trends," I added.

"Well yes, but nothing is absolute, with people anyway. Things are changing all the time."

"Still," Kristalene pondered thoughtfully, "I thought only God could know the future." Alice and I exchanged awkward glances. Kristalene's constant references to religion made me a little uncomfortable.

"Um, well," Alice stammered, not wanting to offend, "I don't _know_ anything. I can only see what will happen according to a certain decision. If someone changes their mind, my vision changes."

"That is amazing, though," Kristalene said, her eyes alight with reverence and rapt interest. "Did you see me coming?"

"Not exactly," Alice smiled, "Not until you decided to come to the inn. It must have been a split-second decision, because you were inside before I had even gotten to Jasper to warn him." She laughed at the memory of our tense meeting. It was funny in the light of our close relationship now.

"Yes," Kristalene giggled, "I was on my way home, but I thought I smelled something strange, and I could hear everyone inside talking about outsiders. I thought I'd stop in and see what all the fuss was about."

"Well, I'm glad you did, darling," I said warmly, reaching forward to pat her knee. The movement was unconscious, I touched her without thinking. Only after my hand brushed her dress did I remember that she may be frightened of my proximity, frightened of my touch.

But she just smiled back, her emotions unchanging.

"So how did your ability affect your ... diet?" Kristalene asked, hinting for me to continue my story.

"Well, I told you I can feel others' emotions. Every time I ... fed ... I could feel everything my victims felt, feel their terror and pain as though it were my own. It became unendurable."

She muttered something then that sounded like an apology. I smiled at her to show her there was nothing to forgive.

"So I was wandering around, trying to feed as seldom as possible, wondering what I could do -- I had lost hope. When one day I ducked into a little diner to get out of the rain, and there was this little temptress waiting for me."

"Really? You knew he was coming?" She seemed pleased to hear the story of our meeting, the way a child listens to the story of her parents' first date.

"Yes, I knew he was coming. Eventually," Alice threw me a smile of mock exasperation, "I had seen him and I knew he was looking for me, for answers, and I knew we'd be together forever."

"But where did you come from?" Kristalene inquired. I felt Alice's emotions dip into sadness, but nothing was betrayed on her face. She continued in a light tone.

"Well, I don't remember anything of my human days. I found out only a few years ago that I had been ... in a hospital. There was one of our kind, a cruel hunter, who marked me as his quarry, but another, a kind one who worked at the hospital, saved me the only way he knew how. He changed me. Once I was a vampire the hunter had no interest, but he killed my maker in vengeance."

"Oh," Kristalene muttered again, looking at her hands.

"It's all right," Alice assured her, "I don't remember it. My clearest first memories are of Jasper." She leaned her body against my arm, then continued.

"I saw him and I knew we would meet, but it took some time to pinpoint the location." She grinned. "I knew he would be in Philadelphia and I knew it would rain, but it wasn't until an hour or so before he walked in that I knew the street he'd be on and then which diner he'd come into. I was very impatient."

"So you met and, what, it was love at first sight?" Kristalene asked hopefully. I tried to suppress the smile at her childish romantic notions, though they were not far from the truth.

"Well, once I was sure she wasn't going to try to kill me, yeah, it was pretty much love at first sight," the smile broke through now.

"I knew what he was looking for, and I had seen a family of our kind in the North that lived differently from the others I had met, who didn't take human lives. I told Jasper about them and we set off that very night to find them."

"They were a little surprised," I remembered with a smirk, "I'm sure you understand that I can be a little ... frightening," I nodded to my battle-scarred forearm where the skin was showing below the pushed-up sleeves.

"You were a little ... intimidating," Kristalene agreed with a grin, "at first."

"And now?" I asked, raising my eyebrow. I said it as a joke, but the question was real.

"Not now. Now I think you are ... _both_ ... wonderful," she whispered the last word, embarrassed again. Alice beamed, and I could feel a huge smile breaking across my face.

"Well we are so happy we met you, little one," Alice cooed, stroking Kristalene's hand where it lay upon her leg. Kristalene didn't meet our gaze for a moment, but then she smiled, her eyes still curious.

"So the family up North, what did they do? Did they teach you to hunt?"

"Yes, after they got over the shock of my appearance and Alice knowing all their names, they welcomed us into the family. We've lived with them ever since. I consider them my family now, too."

"I didn't know vampires had ... families -- other than those they were born with, like me and Anya. The old one in Bialoweiza told me our kind usually travel alone or with a mate, occasionally in threes."

"Most of them do," Alice granted, "but feeding on animals makes it easier for us to live with many of our kind. For a time we lived with another family, and there were ten of us altogether."

Kristalene sucked in a breath in surprise.

"That's very uncommon though, and it proved to be too conspicuous for life among humans. Most of the time we live with seven others -- well, I guess that's almost as many, isn't it?"

"And the werewolf makes ten," I snorted, "One big, happy family."

"The werewolf?" Kristalene's tone rose an octave in surprise, "There are werewolves? And you _live_ with one?"

"Well, technically he's not a werewolf, I suppose. He's a Native American, and those of a certain ancestral line in his tribe become wolves when vampires are around, to protect their people," I said in a rush, trying to explain. When I thought about it, our life was like some strange, supernatural soap opera. This girl was going to think we were insane. "But they're friends now, sort of, Jacob is at least. Ever since he imprinted on our niece, Renesmee,"

"Imprinted? Your niece?"

"Slow down, Jasper, you're going to give her an aneurism." Alice interrupted, giggling. She put her hand on my arm. "Our brother, Edward, fell in love with a human girl named Bella." Alice waited while Kristalene digested that. "They got married and Bella became pregnant." Again she waited. This was going to be a long process. "Bella carried the baby while she was human, but the baby was strong, half vampire, half human. When she was born she nearly killed her mother, but Edward turned her just in time. Bella named the baby Renesmee."

Kristalene's mouth was open in amazement. Goodness, we should write a screenplay of our lives -- we'd make a fortune, I thought.

"Jacob, the werewolf for lack of a better term, had been in love with Bella, but apparently a strange thing happens to some of the werewolves. They will see a girl -- _the_ girl -- and immediately they will be tied to her forever. They will be soul mates. If the girl is already old enough, they will be romantic soul mates and get married eventually. But sometimes -- sometimes the wolves imprint on girls who are not yet old enough. In that case there would be nothing romantic about their attachment to the girl --"

"Yet," I muttered. Alice ignored me.

"They would simply be a very attentive guardian until one day, when she _was_ old enough, their relationship would shift."

Kristalene found her voice with some difficulty. "That sounds very ... strange," she managed.

"Tell me about it," I mumbled again.

"So, after Renesmee was born, Jacob imprinted on her. He took care of her like the best babysitter in the world. And just a few months ago their relationship finally changed and Jacob asked Renesmee to marry him."

"So, Renesmee ages? Does Jacob --" Kristalene bit her lip and her brow furrowed as she tried to understand the complexity of the Cullen life.

"Yes, she aged very quickly. She was actually born only about seven years ago, but she is an adult now. She will not age much past the next year or two. And werewolves apparently stop aging as long as they continue to change from men to wolves. So as long as Jacob continues to shift, he can live with Renesmee forever."

"Incredible," Kristalene breathed, shaking her head. "I never knew there could be so much ... so much I didn't know. Incredible."

"So we have our 'parents,' " I continued, "Carlisle and Esme, there's our brother Edward and now Bella, there are our other brother and sister Emmett and Rosalie, and now there's Jacob and Renesmee." I concluded with a wave of my hands, indicating the completion of the complicated tale.

"Incredible," she repeated. Alice laughed.

"I guess it does sound a little fantastic," she conceded, "but that is our life. And we are very happy with it."

We all sat in silence for an immeasurable amount of time, each lost in our own thoughts. The silence was far from uncomfortable or awkward -- in fact, it was rather intimate. The shared quiet was like a cozy blanket we all shared, wrapping all our emotions and thoughts up under one familiar, familial cover. It was very comfortable. It drew us all closer together.

I was sure Kristalene was turning over the strange story of our lives in her head, and I could see her brow pucker and smooth as she thought of new questions and then either answered them herself or decided not to ask. I smiled fondly at the expressions. Alice's gorgeous eyes watched the bison, then went blank as she checked the future -- for what I wasn't sure, though I hoped she was doing her "duty" and checking on the Volturi and Jacob and Renesmee -- then focused on the animals again. She was leaning against my chest now, absently running her fingers across one of the scars on my right hand as she observed the bison, then she would stop, her hand frozen as she glimpsed the future, then she would resume to movement. I smiled softly at this, too. This was a habit of hers when we had these quiet, thoughtful times. I doubted she was aware, to this day, that she did it.

For my part I was letting my imagination run away with me. I wondered about the child's name, _Kristalene_. An unusual name, surely, even for Belarus. It wasn't a traditional Russian name like _Anya_ or _Sasha_. Maybe it was a family name, another heirloom passed down from generation to generation like her rosary. I remembered meeting a "Christel" in Germany once, ages ago, on a "family vacation," as Esme cheerfully termed it. Similar to "Kristalene." And "Christel" was a derivative of the Latin for "Christian." That would make sense, I thought, if her family were so devout.

I began picturing Kristalene's childhood, using her story as an inspiration, but I certainly took artistic license filling in the gaps; truthfully I knew very little about her past. Only the most important things. She loved her sister. I imagined her playing dolls with Anya in the backyard, or in the woods close to the house. I imagined the two of them playing tag with persistent little Sasha, maybe crying out in protest as he pulled their pigtails.

She loved her family. I pictured her sitting at her mother's bedside during some fit of fever or influenza, reading to her or bringing her soup until she was well again, watching after Anya the way a big sister should.

She loved the people in her tiny town. I watched her story, as I had envisioned it, in my mind like an action film. I pictured the burning chapel and small, fragile-looking Kristalene ripping heavy oaken doors from their hinges, flinging them into the woods, and disappearing into the smoke and flames as the villagers looked on in disbelief. She had risked her life in saving the priest and the farmers, though I wasn't sure she knew it. Fire was one of the few things in this world that could harm us. I was certain, though, that had she known, she still would have have risked her own safety to save the men; would have done so without a moment's hesitation. She was selfless. She was brave.

She loved her God. It was obvious in the way she spoke about her religion, her beliefs. A beautiful image of Kristalene, seven or eight years old, clad in a lovely white lace dress reminiscent of a bridal gown danced before my eyes. She was kneeling in front of the priest, her dark, thick hair flowing under the white lace like a second veil, her striking dark eyes somber and full of reverence. Did they have First Communion in Belorussian churches?, I wondered. I vaguely seemed to recall, from my Russian Revolution studies, that most Eastern Catholic countries practiced "Infant Communion." Well, it was a pretty thought, either way. Such a lovely, beautiful, pretty thought.

I wondered what her wedding would have been like if she had not been changed, if she had been left to lead her life human, untouched by this world of blood and death. I clenched my fists into hard balls, but soon relaxed them. Just as I couldn't regret the path my life had taken because it was the path that brought me to Alice, I couldn't bring myself to be sorry for the turns Kristalene's life had taken, because they brought her to me. And we would alleviate some of that darkness, Alice and I. We would help her find a way that wasn't so ... hard.

I began replaying the recent hunting excursion in my head, filling in the parts of Kristalene's hunt I had missed. I imagined her flying after the female wolf, catching up to her quickly. I could see her grabbing the creature by the scruff of the neck, or maybe tackling her, and then holding her, hesitating, not sure quite how to proceed. The image was quite comical. That martyred expression, that perfect little nose wrinkled in distaste. I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing aloud again and frightening the bison.

I wondered how she would fare against some of the prey I was more used to hunting -- black tail deer or elk ... surely those would be no challenge for her. The mountain lions, perhaps? Wouldn't Edward love to teach her how to hunt mountain lions, just as he had taught Renesmee. _Approach them from above, catch them unaware. They won't hurt you, but they're fast and they're vicious. Auntie Alice won't be pleased if they rip your pretty new dress..._

Or Emmett teaching her how to hunt bears! Now that had been a lesson Edward had insisted wait for over a year, until he felt certain even a bear could not harm Renesmee. Of course, Kristalene we knew had the same diamond-hard skin we all possessed -- there was no need to worry about her safety on a bear hunt.

_Now, Nessie -- no, don't do that! Yeah, one quick swipe! Now jump to the side, kid. Good! That one's pretty big -- are you sure? Okay, well, go for it -- oh! Good one! Regular little huntress we got here, Jazz! Save some bears for your Uncle Emmett, Ness..._

I wondered if Emmett and Edward would let Kristalene call them "Uncle." What would she be to Renesmee? A cousin? How well she'd fit in with everyone at home! Esme would just adore her. We'd have to be careful or she'd be another _sister_ instead of a _daughter_ -- Esme had quite the nurturing instinct. When we went away to Dartmouth Kristalene could enroll in the junior high or high school. Surely she could be in close proximity with humans if she lived with them now. She could live in one of the dozens of rooms we were going to have in the Hanover house. Alice could decorate it and fill her closet with clothes that would make her the envy of every teenage child in the state. I could tutor her, if she needed it, and educate her about the ways of the vampire world which she seemed to know so little about. We could go on hunting excursions, and keeping her strong would help keep _me_ strong.

We could say she was our adopted daughter -- Russia was known for it's overfilled orphanages; I was certain there were places there that would adopt a young teenage child out to a young -- _very young_ -- couple. That could be plausible, couldn't it? Of course, Kristalene wasn't really Russian, but as Alice had pointed out, most Americans had never heard of Belarus. I supposed if we had to we could tell the humans Esme and Carlisle had adopted her, just as they adopted us. I didn't much care for this idea -- I wanted her to be _ours_, officially, publicly. But really, I told myself, what difference would it make? She'd still be ours. Still be our child.

Of course, the thought of Anya flitted into my head every so often. I was pretty sure Kristalene wouldn't want to leave her beloved sister, but Anya was an adult now, at least in her twenties. Surely she was capable of caring for herself, surely she could be happy on her own... Maybe she could move with us. I didn't think I could handle living in the same house as a human, but we could set her up in a nearby place. It would be a better life than that she had here in this poor, tiny, farm town...

My thoughts continued down this road, planning the future Alice and I could have with Kristalene as our adopted child, giving her a home that could last an eternity, as that with Anya could not. Slowly the sky began to lighten and the twinkling stars began to fade. The moon, a lop-sided golden orb with one thin sliver cut from its side, was sinking lower toward the horizon.

"Dawn will be breaking soon," Kristalene murmured, breaking the cozy silence with her reluctant whisper. Alice didn't move. I wondered if she were lost in a vision. With a soft sigh Kristalene rose very slowly to her feet. Alice turned to look at her now, apparently roused from her reverie.

"Is your sister expecting you?" she asked in her melodic soprano voice. It was like a song on the breeze -- the bison didn't even stir.

"Yes, I'm sure she is. I usually tell her when I plan on staying out all night. She doesn't worry much about me anymore," the child indicated her body, as though reminding us of her indestructibility, "but I should still get back. She will be waking soon."

"We should probably get back before daylight," I agreed, rising unwillingly from the mossy earth, pulling little Alice with me. I brushed bracken and dirt from my tattered slacks, trying to ignore Alice's pained expression as she was reminded of the tears anew.

The sky lightened another shade of blue every minute, from midnight to darkest navy to deepest azure. Though none of us wanted to break the spell of this perfect evening, this perfect moment, each of us knew we had a duty to maintain. Kristalene had her Anya, Alice and I had our anonymity to preserve. We were going to do everything we could to keep the Volturi away from this child, to keep her safe. I held my hand out to Alice who, in turn, held her hand out to Kristalene. The child took it with a smile, and, at my lead, we flew hand in hand through the forest back toward Viselkeizedevia.


	15. Chapter 15

15. ALONE

"SO..." I HESITATED, NOT KNOWING QUITE HOW TO ASK. TRUTHFULLY I was almost _scared_ to ask. If the answer was no...

"Spit it out, Jazz. You've been mumbling leading questions all day! What do you want to know?" Alice turned on me, frowning. She was folding one of her many expensive, chic tops to put into the large wooden dresser of drawers -- more for something to do inside this tiny little room than for actual convenience, I guessed. But who knew? Alice was very protective about her clothes.

"Well, I..." I mumbled again, studying my bare feet on the rough wooden floor. If I didn't have rock-hard skin I would never walk around on this floor barefoot -- I'd be one big walking splinter by now. Alice sighed meaningfully and rolled her eyes. I took a deep breath and asked my question speedily, the words tumbling out in a flurry. "Do you see Kristalene coming back to Forks with us? Living with us? Staying..."

I couldn't meet her gaze. I knew I had let my imagination run away with me, I knew I had no right to hope that this child would leave her only family and come and be with me. I knew, and yet, I wanted it so badly. I almost couldn't bear to hear Alice's answer. Maybe not knowing was better. At least then I had hope.

Finally I raised my eyes to see Alice's expression had softened. She was looking at me kindly, empathetically. She knew how much I wanted this.

"I looked," she said softly, stepping across the floor on her tiptoes as though she were clad in invisible ballet slippers. She rested her hand softly on my arm. I looked down again. This didn't seem like a good sign. It seemed like she was trying to let me down easy. "She _might_. The vision keeps changing. I see her with us in New Hampshire, in the woods, in the living room of the new house with Carlisle and Esme and Em and Rose. We're all laughing, happy. But it's hazy. I see her in a house with a woman, I assume Anya, and the four of us are all sitting around the table talking. The trees out the window look different -- I don't think it's here. But I also see her in Viselkeizedevia, in this inn, walking the streets. I see her at a church bent over a casket, over an old woman -- again, I think it's her sister. She just hasn't decided anything." She paused a moment, "Nor have we, really."

My head jerked back up at that. Hadn't we? When I thought about it, I guess I hadn't ever actually _talked_ to Alice about the child, about what I wanted.

"Don't --" I hesitated again. It wasn't good to want something so much. I was just setting myself up for disappointment. "Don't you _want_ her to come with us?"

Alice pressed me toward the bed. I sank down onto it, the springs squeaking in protest at my weight. She sat lightly on my lap and wrapped her arms around my neck. She was biting her bottom lip -- another bad sign -- and she seemed to choose her words very carefully.

"I _do_..." she started. I frowned and glared at my hands. Alice touched my chin and pulled my face back up, "I do, Jasper. Of course I do. But we have to think about _her_. I don't think she would ever leave Anya, not while she's alive anyway. It's possible in forty or fifty years--"

I huffed in frustration. I may have lived a century and a half, but waiting forty or fifty years for the little "family" I had envisioned seemed like an eternity.

"Anya could come too," I muttered defiantly.

"True. And maybe she will. But there's something else we need to consider."

I glared into her perfect porcelain face. I was tired of her "no"s. I didn't want to hear any more reasons why this _wouldn't_ work.

Alice sighed, "Jazz, right now she's safe. No one knows about this town, not the rest of the world ... not the Volturi." My fists clenched involuntarily as what she was saying sank in. "She broke the law," Alice whispered, "She told _everyone_ what she was. If the Volturi found out about her, found out what she did, not only would they kill her--"

"They'd massacre every human in Viselkeizedevia," I finished darkly. Alice was right. I didn't want to agree with her, though. "But she didn't tell them she was a _vampire_," I argued stubbornly. Alice shook her head.

"Jazz, you know that won't matter. They'll kill first and ask questions later. We can't take that risk."

"Well why should they ever know?" I growled, but I knew the answer.

"The Cullens are Public Enemy Number One to the Volturi. It's only a matter of time before they come to check up on us again, and when they do Aro will know. You know he will."

"We could hide her," I fought on doggedly. I knew Alice was right, and I knew this plan would not work either, but I didn't want to give up. There just had to be a way. Some way...

"Aro would know what we'd done. And do you really want to make her live like that? A fugitive? I love her too, Jazz, but she's safer right where she is."

I hadn't realized it until Alice voiced the word, but I _did _love her. Just as I had been drawn to Alice, felt some unexplainable force pulling me toward her, telling me I would rather die than allow her pain, so I felt it for Kristalene now. I loved her. I could feel that I had changed, that a part of me was different now. And that difference was permanent. It was forever.

She was so innocent, this angelic child, so kind, so brave and strong -- and somehow so _fragile_. There was so much she didn't know about the evils of the world, about the dangers and cruelty. Was I really so eager to expose her to that? Could I do that to her for my own selfish desires?

I slumped on the bed. Alice knew I was giving up and she held me tightly, running her fingers soothingly through my tousled curls.

"She's perfect," I breathed sadly, almost inaudibly.

"I know," Alice whispered back. She sounded like she were crying -- her voice shook with restrained emotion. I could tell she wanted this as badly as I did. "But if we really love her, we'll do what's best for her. And I think what's best is for her to stay here, stay safe, stay a secret."

I closed my eyes and saw my beautiful vision slipping away from me, being pulled into the darkness of never-to-be. I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to shut out the fading image, shut out the sadness. It might be ridiculous, but I felt as if I had lost a child, lost an entire future I had wanted _so_ badly... so badly...

We sat on the bed in silence for a long while, hours maybe. Long enough for the midday sun to change its position in the sky and for the full, white sphere of the moon to show itself against the powdery blue backdrop of the atmosphere. I watched the moon as it inched higher and higher, turning the heavens darker and darker with its ascent. I wondered vaguely whether there was some special, astronomical name for the moon when it could be seen during the day. I bet there was. I bet Edward would know it.

It was an odd dichotomy, that daylight moon. It was a child of the night, like me, meant only to show itself in the darkness. And yet, stubbornly, defiantly, it rose every so often and crept into the daylight world where it was not welcome, not expected. It was brave, I decided, the moon. Brave to stand up tall and shout to the sun, "I'm here! I won't hide in the shadows! I will live as I choose, and I am here."

I shook my head imperceptibly. The moon was not brave. It was a dead chunk of rock orbiting life. Maybe that was a more accurate metaphor. Always on the outside, always longing for something it could never have, could never be...

I shook my head harder this time. Alice noticed and watched me warily, worriedly. The moon was just the moon, and I needed to stop trying to find poetic meaning in celestial bodies. It was science. It simply was.

"So ... there's no hope, then?" I barely breathed, barely able to push enough air into the words to make them audible. I wanted this so much, but if Alice didn't see it happening, how good could the odds be? Why torture myself?

Alice hesitated.

"There is..." My eyes shot to her face warily. I could tell she didn't want to get my hopes up. "Like I said, in forty or fifty years, when Anya's dead, I don't think there'll be anything holding her here anymore. It's very hazy, very uncertain, but by then most the people who knew her and her secret will be dead too. If we waited -- if we waited until then, I think she would come to us --"

"--and there would be no reason for the Volturi to be upset," I finished, my chest expanding with the hope. I tried to check it -- this was only a possibility, after all. Definitely not a certainty. Still, I couldn't help ... hoping. _Why not?_ I asked myself. If her sister were no longer alive, if everyone she knew and loved had lived their human lives and were no longer around, why wouldn't she want to come live with us? We could offer her everything she had missed out on here -- an immortal family, immortal love and friendship, education, culture ... cable T.V. ...

And though the Volturi might be upset that she had exposed that she was _different_ to humans, surely we could convince them that she had done no real harm. No one outside this tiny village knew anything about her, and all that she would leave behind here were stories and legends. Marcus, Caius, and Aro had done as much centuries ago, when people actually _believed_ in vampires. Surely the whispered tales of a strange girl that never aged in a forgotten town in Belarus would not affect anyone's way of life, would pose no threat to our kind. I knew Caius would put up a fight, another ridiculous trumped up charge to try to provoke the Cullens to battle -- and I was willing to go to battle for Kristalene. I paused a moment to consider whether I could ask the rest of my family to fight for her. Perhaps I shouldn't -- it _was_ a lot to ask -- but I knew even before I finished thinking the question that I would. I absolutely would call on my parents and brothers and sisters to defend this child, to protect her. Just as instantly as I knew my answer I also knew that I wouldn't even have to ask. Every member of my family would fight to defend what I loved, just as surely as I would fight to defend what they loved. It might take some strategizing and some convincing, but I knew Edward, Bella, Emmett, Carlisle, Esme, and even Rosalie and Jacob would fight with me, if for no other reason than to protect _me_ and Alice. I wondered hesitantly about Renesmee. Renesmee was our Achilles heel. None of us would readily pull her into a fight.

But, odds were if the Volturi were coming, they'd be after Renesmee too -- and Alice and Edward and Bella and maybe me -- so really all our fates were twined together, all resting on resisting and defending against a Volturi attack.

I hoped, though, that with Carlisle's cool head and Edward's helpful mind-reading, actual combat could be avoided. Emmett and I would like nothing better than our chance to face off against Dimitri and Felix and the rest of the fighters, but I knew neither of us wanted it enough to risk Rose or Alice for it. Surely if we could talk the Volturi out of a fight when they were dead set on wiping us out, we could talk them out of it now. Of course, now they were a little older and wiser, now I was certain they'd have new clever strategies in place, but then, so would we. And we were talking about decades into the future. The wolf pack would be seasoned and well-trained, Bella got more powerful every day, and what plans I could make with forty or fifty years to lay them!

No, I wasn't too worried. It could work out. I just had to wait. I just had to be patient. Forty or fifty years, then. Forty or fifty years. I thought about all that could happen in that time, all I could do to prepare for Kristalene's inclusion into our family. Time wasn't such a bad thing, really, not when you had unlimited amounts of it. Time gave you options. What was time to an immortal? I sat noiselessly on the bed, contemplating the next four or five decades. Alice sat with me, watching me apprehensively, for once not seeming sure what I was thinking. I probably should have set her mind at ease, but I didn't want to get my hopes up too high. Admitting aloud that I was planning Kristalene's future in our family, avoiding or planning for another war with the Volturi to do it, considering where she would live and what she would call Carlisle and Esme and what our cover story would be for her adoption all made it too real, too concrete -- too clear _how much_ I was hoping. And as Alice had pointed out, the future was hazy, by no means secure. I shouldn't hope. I shouldn't ... but I did.

Alice watched me anxiously until I pulled myself together enough to manage a forced smile. She knew I was still troubled, but she didn't ask me to explain. She knew me too well for that. I would talk about it when I was ready. She kissed my cheek softly then rested her head against my chest for a short moment. I didn't relax -- there was just too much still to consider.

She seemed to understand my tension, as she usually did, and she rose from the bed to give me what privacy she could. Unless we wanted to try to sneak out the window (which would not have been difficult were it not for the frequent enterings and exitings of the various inn patrons, which, I assumed, was basically every inhabitant of the town; whether this was their usual routine or whether they were all hoping to catch a glimpse of the "outsiders," I couldn't be sure), we were both stuck inside this tiny room for the next hour or so until twilight descended.

Alice turned to the sparse furniture and again began arranging and rearranging things to her liking. She moved the lamp to the far right edge of the dresser, then replaced it where she had moved it earlier in the center of the bureau. She picked up the pale green ashtray and set it next to the phone. She danced back a step to observe the arrangement, then lifted the ashtray again, ready to replace it a few inches over. I wasn't paying much attention to her redecorating, wallowing in self-pity and loss as I was, so I nearly jumped through the wooden ceiling beams when I heard the shattering of glass. Alice had dropped the ashtray and it had smashed into a hundred chunks and shards of green glass, scattering over the oaken floor. I stared at her, frozen in alarm. Only the most unexpected and horrific visions could immobilize Alice so completely, demand her focus enough to cause her to drop something fragile, no matter how inconsequential. The last time I had seen her react this way was nearly seven years ago when she had seen Irina go to the Volturi and turn us in, seen the Volturi mobilize and come for us, eradication in their hearts.

The soldier in me started to take control, the "on" switch began to click over. If the Volturi were coming, I would be ready for them. They would not lay a finger on Alice or Kristalene. Even if I had to die to do it, I would get them out safely.

"Something's wrong," Alice mouthed, barely a whisper.

"What is it?" I asked through clenched teeth in a voice as hard as steel, though I already knew the answer.

"Kristalene," Alice breathed again, her eyes still unfocused and not a muscle other than her lips moving. I tensed further still. They would _not_ harm the child I loved.

"Where is she?" I growled.

"In the woods. I think she decided to practice hunting alone. But--" she cut off with a pained intake of breath, as though the words were too awful to speak. She looked at me frantically, terrified.

"How many?" I growled again. Not that it mattered. If the whole damn Volturi guard was there I would fight. I _would_ save her. Alice blinked rapidly, confused by my question. "How many, Alice?" I repeated.

"I -- I don't know. It's not ... it's not our kind. It's not vampires."

I stared at her blankly. Not vampires? Not the Volturi? Could it be a trick? Another new recruit that could block the guard from Alice's sight? I didn't see how that was possible, but really it didn't matter. Whoever it was that was putting the child in danger, they were going to die. They would not harm her.

I grabbed Alice around the waist and, too furious and desperate to bother opening it, launched our bodies through the window, shattering the glass and the wooden frame. I was sure the innkeeper and the patrons would hear it, but we had hit the ground and disappeared into the trees before the sound could even register. In one swift movement, taking no more than a one-hundredth of a second, I set Alice on the ground and continued sprinting headlong into the woods, not breaking my stride.

"Where?" I called to Alice as the wind and gnarled trunks flew by us.

"To the east," she answered, almost keeping up with me. She must be truly terrified -- I'd never seen her run so fast. The knot in my stomach that had begun to twist and tighten at the sound of the shattering ashtray lurched and seemed to beat at my abdomen, like a frantic heartbeat.

"What did you see?" I demanded as we raced through the trees toward the east, more flying than running, our feet barely touching the ground.

"She went hunting. And then -- then something happened, or will happen, I can't tell. It must be something we've never encountered -- I can't see it. Like Jacob and the other wolves, like Renesmee. It's just _not there_. But Kristalene is hurt, she's --" Alice seemed unable to finish. My stomach beat against my stone skin as though it were trying to break out. It felt as heavy as a granite boulder. _No!_ I shouted in my head. _Not her! No!_ I used every ounce of power I had and ran faster.

Finally I caught her scent. She had gone deep into the woods for her hunt, and she must have entered from a different direction. I began to scan the woods frantically for some sign of her, some sign of the danger that threatened her. I felt the robot start to take over, the strategizing, the military tactics. Assess the danger, figure out what you were up against. Emotions did you no good. Block them out. Listen, look, smell. Where were they? _What_ were they?

Finally I picked up a faint scent of something strange, something foreign but vaguely familiar. It wasn't a pleasant smell, and I associated it with a fight and caution, but not necessarily with danger. What was it? I couldn't quite place it...

The strange smell grew stronger as Kristalene's scent intensified. I looked again, around and around. Where was she? Was I going too fast? Had I missed her? My mind was whirling with so many questions, so much anxiety, I wouldn't be surprised if I tripped over her.

"Jasper!" Alice cried as though she had been shot, a sudden shriek of pain. I whirled to a halt, almost slipping with the abrupt change of direction on the leaf-strewn ground.

And there she was. Lying in the crevice between two small boulders, almost invisible except for a scuffed path of dirt and leaves and ... blood ... where she had dragged herself to this spot. I had never seen a vampire bleed before. We had no blood of our own. The scent of it was strong, though, and it smelled much like the wolf blood from the night before. It must be just that, I realized. If her stomach had been opened...

I was at her side in an instant, moving her hands where they clutched at her middle to assess her injuries. The strange scent was so strong here, I could hardly pick out Kristalene's scent from it. I could tell now there was another odd smell mixed with the odor of the animal blood. What was it?

"Kristalene," I swallowed. I tried to achieve that reassuring tone of certainty and professionalism Carlisle had when he spoke to patients. It was difficult to keep my composure though. She didn't want to move her hands. She was doubled over in pain, shaking and spasming, breathing in short, shallow gasps. I gripped her hands tightly and pulled them away. I had to see what was wrong. And then Alice screamed.

I choked as my breath caught in my throat. Her belly was torn open, her insides exposed, covered in red wolf blood. I could see her intestines, the layers of her skin and muscle. Even as a soldier I had not witnessed such an injury. How could this be possible? The only thing that could _tear_ our skin like this was vampire teeth, and there were certainly no vampires, other than us, here. I smelled nothing but that odd strange-yet-familiar scent. I gritted my teeth together and released Kristalene's hands. She clutched them back to her stomach. Why wasn't her skin sealing up again? Even if an arm or a leg was ripped from our body, it would reattach itself in moments. I didn't understand.

I quickly tore the gray sweater from my body and bundled it up, pulling her hands aside again to press it to the wound. I wasn't sure if this would help -- surely we weren't worried about loss of blood -- but I couldn't think what else to do.

"Jasper," Alice whispered in a strangled voice. I looked to see her staring at Kristalene's leg. In the light of the obvious stomach wound I hadn't noticed the rest of her body. I gasped in horror as I saw the mangled flesh of her left leg. Huge gaping gashes ran up and down the length of the limb, from thigh to calf. It looked like a flesh and bone scratching post.

I quickly looked over her entire body, checking for any other injuries. Her face was gaunt and even paler than usual, and there were some minor scratches on her forehead and left cheek, but other than that it was undamaged. Her hands and right forearm, though, so covered in blood it was difficult to see at first, were mangled and torn like her leg.

"Kristalene," I gasped. I swallowed hard and gritted my teeth. We needed to know, "What happened? Who did this to you? _What_ did this to you?"

She only stared at me, her eyes unfocused, sucking in jagged gulps of air, jerking with pain. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what had happened.

I looked helplessly at Alice, who was hovering over the child, apparently just as lost as I was.

"Carlisle?" I asked her in a rushed whisper. She didn't answer but pulled the small silver cell phone from her pocket and dialed the number in a flash. I heard her panic-stricken voice racing through the emergency so agitated with emotion I wondered if Carlisle could understand her.

"I ... don't ... know," she sucked in breaths between each word as though she were sobbing. She listened to whatever Carlisle was saying, nodding and looking at Kristalene, then at the immediate surroundings, then back at Kristalene.

"Yes. Stay by the phone," she ordered and clicked the tiny phone shut. "Carlisle says the only things that could do this are vampires and..." I waited, "... and werewolves."

"Werewolves?" My voice was high with shock. I felt Kristalene's terror spike at the word. My eyes flew to her face. "Was that it? Was it a werewolf?"

Again, she didn't respond. She just lay there spasming and gasping, staring at me with horrified eyes, as though begging me to stop the pain, to save her. It was torture! I didn't know what to do for her, how to ease her pain. What were we supposed to do? And werewolves? Did such creatures actually still exist? Were they here? Was that the almost-familiar scent I had smelled, familiar because it was similar to the Quileute's mongrel stench? I couldn't worry about that now. I actually didn't much care.

"What do we do?" I demanded. I felt Alice's anguish.

"He ... he says werewolves have venom, like we do. If they bite a human they will turn them, just like us, but if they bite a vampire..." She looked at me pleadingly, as though begging me not to make her finish. "We can try to suck it out like Edward did with Bella. But..." she looked at me helplessly again.

"No!" I yelled, turning to the piteous child before me. Her spasms suddenly began to slow, rolling through her body less frequently but each more powerfully than the last. I felt the panic in my chest, threatening to overtake me, to shut me down. I pushed it back inside. I _would_ save her. I pulled her bloody hands away from her torso again and the panic jumped back into my chest. Where did I start? This wasn't some small three-inch bite we were talking about, like it had been with Bella. This was the entire middle of her body!

"Get her leg!" I yelled to Alice and I bent my head down to Kristalene's body. I was disgusted, but the reaction barely registered. Nor did the usually enticing taste of the wolf blood as my mouth touched the gash across the top of the wound. Would this work? How could it? I sucked at the wound, tasting the blood and the vampire skin and the venom, like a stinging, numbing, acid. Part of my mind registered that this venom must be the strange scent mingled with the blood. I sucked and spit, sucked and spit, the way you were supposed to with a rattlesnake bite. I didn't know if it was doing any good. Maybe if I got the venom out her body would be able to repair itself. It must be the venom that was keeping the wounds from closing, the skin from reattaching. Suck and spit, suck and spit. I could hear Alice doing the same. I pressed the panic down again and again. Suck and spit, suck and spit. This couldn't happen. It couldn't! This amazing, brave, beautiful, perfect child could not die, could not die like _this_! She couldn't! No god anywhere could let this happen! Where was her God when she needed Him? What good were all her Sundays and prayers and pleadings for forgiveness if He was going to let her die like this? No, she wouldn't die. I wouldn't let her.

A sudden scream ripped through the cold forest air and Alice and I both froze in utter pain and terror. Kristalene screamed again and again, writhing in agony. Alice moved to touch her, then reached her hand back, then moved again, her fingers trembling. She just didn't know what to do. Kristalene's eyes shut now and she gurgled a muffled scream twisting and turning, panting. It was excruciating! I just couldn't do anything for her. What could I do? What?

"No!" I shouted again and turned back to the wound. It didn't look any smaller. I wasn't doing any good. Suck and spit, suck and spit.

An idea occurred to me then. Vampire venom repaired human bodies when they were broken. Our venom was merely very painful when one was already a vampire, but maybe the werwolf venom in her system was somehow weakening the vampire venom, warring with it. If I gave her _more_ vampire venom, maybe then it could win out, overcome the werewolf.

I bent my head to her chest, just above her heart. I took a deep breath and bit deeply into her skin. She didn't even flinch at the new wound, which was good. I couldn't have endured the thought that I had caused her more pain. I bit her chest again and again, trying to press as much venom into the wounds as I could. I lifted her right hand and bit her wrist, then her left wrist. I bit at her throat, at her jugular. Then I went back to sucking and spitting.

I felt the spasms lessening more and more, the tremors and gasps becoming fainter. Was this good? Did this mean she was getting better? I looked at her stomach and leg. My throat closed as the panic rose, clawing its way out up my chest. They were exactly the same. She looked no different.

My mind rejected what I was seeing, what I knew. Kristalene's breathing was slowing, coming in short shallow gasps, like a fish on land, sucking in its dying breaths. Her body ceased it's jerking. She was becoming still. She was fading.

"Jasper," Alice choked in an agonized whisper. I ignored her and went back to sucking and spitting, sucking and spitting. I could hardly taste the werewolf venom now. Surely that meant something. Surely she could get better now, her body could close these horrific wounds.

"Jasper," Alice repeated, tugging on my bare arm now. Still I ignored her. What could she want? Why wasn't she doing her part, cleaning the venom from the child's leg or arm? "Jazz," Alice said again, her voice shaking. She tugged on my arm harder this time. Suck and spit, suck and spit. "Jazz, I think ... I think she's gone, love. She's gone."

Her words didn't register. What was she talking about? Vampires didn't die like this! The only way to kill them was to rip them apart and burn the pieces. Kristalene was still here, still intact. She would heal. We just had to get the foreign venom out of her system so the vampire venom could do its work. We just had to--

"Jasper!" Alice yelled, shoving against my chest with all her tiny might. I glared at her, furious that she wasn't helping me, that she wasn't doing all she could. "Jasper, look at her! She's gone, Jazz! She's gone!"

I looked at the angel child on the ground in front of me; the sweet, brave, enchanting girl that had won over an entire superstitious town of humans, won over my suspicious heart. The child I loved. She lay there, still, no longer spasming or jerking. No longer panting or screaming. She was just still. Her bloodied hands lay lifeless at her sides, her beautiful striking eyes, so like Alice's, stared blindly into the forest.

My mind refused to register what I was seeing, what Alice was saying. I waited dumbly for her to move, for her skin to begin sealing, for her to rise to her feet shaken but undamaged.

Alice was bent over the ashen form, shaking and gasping with sobs that racked her body but could not be cried. She rocked back and forth on her knees, crying something to herself unintelligibly. My mind was stopped, on a loop, replaying the scene in front of me over and over, but moving on to nothing new. It rejected the reality that I knew would break my dead heart.

Then I froze. This was the only noise that could have pulled me from the stutter my mind was stuck in. A long piercing howl ripped through the night, freezing my already ice-cold skin. And then the red set in. Everything was washed with a bloody tinge, burning, scorching. Before the howl had even died on the wind I was on my feet, taking off in the direction of the noise. I heard Alice cry something behind me, but I didn't wait -- or care -- to hear what it was. I raced off toward the monster that had taken my child from me. Taken my future.

Another bay rent the cold air, louder, more piercing, more communicative than that of a normal wolf. It seemed to me to be a victory cry. The white-hot rage seared my skin again. I propelled myself through the woods at breakneck speed; I doubted even Edward could catch me. That sickly dog smell invaded my awareness, but it was just what I wanted. Just what I was looking for. It was a dirtier scent than that of Jacob and the Quilieute wolves, somehow mangier, rotten. Like aged meat and earth mixed with wet mutt.

And then I slowed. A hundred yards away, perched upon a sheer granite cliff, stood what I was hunting. I had never seen a true werewolf before. The few stories I had heard about them portrayed them mostly as pitiful, instinct-driven creatures, hunted into near-extinction by the Volturi. I had always felt almost sorry for them. I knew Caius had nearly lost a fight with one. I knew the few remaining wolves cowered in remote areas of Europe, trying to evade detection. I knew the full moon brought on their transformation and that a human, once bitten, turned into a werewolf, just as they turned to vampires when we bit them. I had the impression the situation was very similar -- very few humans survived werewolf bites, either because they became food or because the transformation was just more than their frail bodies could handle. I had heard nothing of what the creatures looked like, either as humans or as animals.

In comparison to the Quilieute wolves, this beast was rather small. Jacob and Sam were the size of large horses, their massive frames undulated with sinuous muscle and thick fur. You could tell they were powerful, but they had always seemed like children to me, pups. Not a threat unless you didn't watch your back. I knew I could take any one of the wolf pack, possibly even together.

This creature was smaller than the "shapeshifter" wolves, but still much larger than any normal wolf. It was nearly five feet tall and a good eight or nine feet from snout to tail. Though he wasn't as big, he seemed more dangerous somehow. Like a hungry, rabid, wild dog -- where the Quileute's were big slobbering St. Bernards. He was wiry but thickly muscled, his silvery-black fur matted and grungy, peppered with leaves and bracken. As a human I imagined him as a homeless man.

He looked straight at the spot where I would emerge from the trees, his eyes intelligent and almost ... wickedly excited. He _was_ excited. I could _feel_ it. I had never been able to feel the emotions of an animal before -- I thought at times I could faintly sense Jacob and the pack's feelings when they were in wolf form, but it was difficult to tell -- but this creature's feelings were almost crystal clear. He was _gleeful_. It was almost as if he _wanted_ this fight, like he had sought it. His lips curled over his yellowed razor fangs in a cruel grin. He growled, low and guttural ... inviting. Inviting me to attack. The red flashed in front of my eyes again and fury scorched every inch of my body. A feral snarl wrenched from my chest and I walked now, smoothly, stalking, closer to the monster that had taken my Kristalene, my future.

He was above me on the rock wall, maybe twenty-five feet up; an advantageous position. But not for long. With a sudden crouch and a powerful thrust of my legs I launched myself high into the air, landing noiselessly on the rock thirty feet from him. He watched my ascent, turning his head warily, but not afraid. Not yet.

He licked his lips and I wondered if this was intentional, a provocation. I snarled again, my white teeth glinting in the light of the full pale moon. The scene around me was all grays and blacks and muted greens, leeched colorless by the moon.

"Was it you?" I growled, my jaw clenched, my hands balled into tight fists of rage at my sides. My bare stone chest and feet seemed to glow in the moonlight.

He looked me straight in the eye, his lips curving into that wicked grin again. He barked three short choking noises, but I knew they were a laugh. I nodded. He had chosen his fate willingly, purposely even.

I sank into a crouch, preparing to strike. The creature did the same. I could feel his anticipation. He _wanted_ this, he had _planned_ it. I almost choked on the sudden gasp of air as I realized what his emotions meant. He had planned this. He had murdered that innocent, helpless child to get at us, at me. He had killed Kristalene to provoke me to fight. My eyes narrowed and a bellow of pure rage tore through the tense cold air. I didn't care why he had done it, why he wanted this fight. I would give it to him. It was here.

I began feinting to the right, slowly, one foot over the other. He moved in response. Slowly, slowly, his back was to the edge of the rock cliff. It was not a long drop to the ground, not enough to kill him, but I would take any advantage. I was sure he needed to breathe. If the air was knocked out of him, it would take him a second to recover. That would be all I needed. I feinted swiftly to the left and then, as he moved to compensate, I launched myself with the power of a Mack truck straight at his formidable mass.

With a growl of protest he fell back, jaws snapping at my face, as we fell out through the darkness, out into the night. I held my forearm to his chest, pushing him away, keeping his teeth from my skin. We hit the ground with a thud that shook the earth, leaving a shallow dent in the dirt. The creature had landed on his side and not his back as I had hoped. There was a slight "whoosh" of air, but he didn't seemed deterred. He wriggled out from under me and turned in a flash, jumping at my throat. I dove to the left, narrowly escaping his fangs. I caught one good scratch down his right flank as he passed by, though, cutting a long, but shallow, gash into his side. He howled in fury and turned again, growling louder and more menacingly than before. I smiled viciously at him and cocked my head, beckoning him forward. This was what I remembered; it was easy to slip into the role of the soldier, the warrior. That is what I was, after all. Once it had been _all_ that I was. I remembered hundreds, maybe thousands of enemies, hundreds of battles. They had all tried. They had all attacked -- scratched and torn and grasped and bitten. None of them had succeeded. None of them had triumphed. In the end, none of them had survived. This sadistic scheming monster would be no different. I smiled broader, taunting him, inviting him to let down his guard and make a mistake.

With another snarl of rage he sprang at me again, this time clipping my shoulder as I shot out of the way. His claws cut me, but there was little pain. Apparently only his fangs were venomous. I growled in anger, annoyed that I had let him get any strike in, no matter how insignificant, but I whirled so quickly I caught the tip of his tail as he landed and, with a jerk of steel muscle, I slammed his body against the stone wall. He hit it hard and a shower of debris scattered around us, but he was on his feet again in a second, snarling and snapping.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" I goaded, grinning wickedly and circling him. "Isn't this what you came for?"

He growled again, the force of the sound resonating in my chest. He mirrored my circles in a low crouch. I focused on his throat, his underbelly. Both would be kill-strikes, but the belly would be safer, keep me away from his venomous fangs. And it would be justice, I thought with a stab of pain and vengeance. I tensed, preparing to launch myself again and knock him onto his back with the force of my collision.

Then I heard it. The worst sound in the world -- the worst sound imaginable in this moment. The chink in my armor. My weakness.

"Jasper!" Alice shrieked, her tiny form breaking through the trees into the clearing not a hundred yards away. I could feel the wolf's fury brighten to malicious glee again. He knew what she was. He knew she would be my downfall.

"Alice, get out of here!" I bellowed, trying to maneuver myself between the monster and the only reason for existence I had left. "Go!" I yelled. But it was too late. The creature saw his way, saw his path to victory. He darted around me in a tight arc, racing past me and bearing down on Alice with the speed of a bullet.

"No!" I screeched, tearing full tilt toward Alice. It was such a short distance. I had to make it there first. I _had_ to!

I slammed into Alice with the force of a rockslide, but I felt nothing but relief as she flew backward into the trees. I hoped she would listen to me and run, get out of here. I had no time to see if she did or not. No sooner had I shoved her out of the way than the wolf slammed into me, knocking me to the ground. He had the advantage now, had me pinned to the floor. I pushed against his massive shoulders, trying to hold back his snapping jaws, his dripping fangs. He was strong, though, stronger than I would have imagined. I could feel his teeth inching closer and closer to my throat. His breath was hot and rancid, like rotting meat. I could smell Kristalene's wolf blood on his muzzle. The smell locked my jaw and muscles, coursing new strength through my body.

The creature bore down on me, pressing his weight, snarling and snapping, moving every second closer to my skin. I held onto the pain, the fury, the flash of blood red that colored my sight. I pooled it, felt it gathering in my muscles, preparing to erupt. Then, with a move like lightning, I called on all that strength and with an explosion like a powder keg I propelled the wolf off of me with my hands and feet.

I used the momentum to jump to my feet in the same movement, and, as the wolf flew through the air, before he could land, I reached out and dug my hands into his soft underbelly. I shoved through the skin and muscle and grabbed ahold of his insides, tearing them back out as he landed on the ground with a thud and a wail of pain and shock. He lurched, trying to get to his feet, blood pouring from the wound like a sieve. Part of me wanted to laugh. Part of me wanted to cackle with vengeful delight at his tortuous, painful death. But I didn't. I felt no pity for the creature, but the scene before me was too similar to Kristalene's death -- the blood, the intestines, the howls of agony. I stalked toward him slowly, ready to end it. He might deserve to suffer, but I couldn't stand the sight of him. I wanted him dead. I wanted him gone from this life.

I knelt by his side as he continued to lurch and jerk, his feet unable to find purchase in the dirt. I tossed the handful of his innards to the ground in front of him. His eyes followed the bloody mess, wide with incredulity. Grabbing a thick fistful of fur tightly at the scruff of his neck, I yanked his head up roughly until my lips were at his ear.

"This is what you wanted," I snarled in a low, vicious whisper, "This is a better death than you deserve. I should tear you apart, piece by piece. I should paint this valley with your blood and listen as you howl out for mercy, laughing when I grant you nothing. Give you only more pain. You took the life of an innocent. You deserve so much, so much _more_."

A strange strangled gurgle escaped his throat. I met his eyes so he would see the end coming, so _I c_ould see the life leave his eyes. He seemed afraid, but still defiant somehow. As though he didn't think the war was quite over. I smiled cruelly. Oh, it was over. Right. Now--

"Jasper!" Several things happened in the split second I looked up at Alice's frightened voice. I saw my little angel emerge from the trees again, looking terrified but no worse for the powerful thrust I had given her into who-knows-what. I saw her mouth form into a perfect "o" and her expression distort into one of horror. I heard the defiant scream rip its way from her chest. And I felt an intense, searing agony rip down the right side of my throat.


	16. Chapter 16

16. GONE

WITH A START I REALIZED THE FISTFUL OF FUR I WAS HOLDING IN MY hand was strained forward. The creature had used my instant of distraction to summon up what strength he had left and bite. I felt the venom flash through my veins, boiling whatever ran through them, burning me alive. I let go of the wolf and fell back, my feet in front of me, slumping as I tried to comprehend what was happening. My vision started to blur, my eyes stinging and blazing. In my cloudy sight I thought I saw Alice at the wolf's head. I tried to scream to her to stay away, to get back -- that monster would not hurt her too -- but the words wouldn't come. My brain was baking in the fire of the venom, and my body wouldn't work. I saw Alice's head jerk back, away from the wolf. I heard a gurgle of pain, of life draining away. I couldn't make sense of it.

And then Alice was there. She had her arms around my shoulders and she was cradling my head against her thin chest. Her exquisite angel's face danced in and out of focus. She looked so terrified, so utterly panic-stricken. I wanted to tell her not to worry, that she'd be all right, but I couldn't form the words even in my own head. The fire was blazing through every muscle in my body, every fiber. I remembered the fire of my transformation from human to vampire, the most unendurable pain I had ever felt. This was worse. A thousand different sensations of burning, charring, searing pain. I felt my limbs begin to jerk, to spasm.

Alice was yelling something at me, but I couldn't make out the words. She needed to get out of here, get to safety. At least wait until that _thing_ bled out and died. It was only a matter of time. I sensed rather than felt her soft familiar skin at my throat. I shuddered in agony, every nerve in every millimeter of my body was being incinerated, roasting, scalding. My arms and legs continued to jerk and move of their own accord, each movement a branding iron slicing through my muscles. I tied to calm myself, to stop the spasms. I tried to take in Alice's comforting scent, to focus on something besides the pain. But all I could register was fire. I vaguely became aware there was a screaming filling my ears, a shrieking of anguish. What was it? It wasn't Alice -- too low to be her melodic voice.

And then my clouded vision started to fade, started to darken. What was happening? Was I going blind? If I was burning alive, it shouldn't be so dark. I couldn't see, I couldn't hear. I sensed nothing but the fire, the searing torching of my flesh, my bones, my muscles, my veins. My heart, my lungs, my stomach, my brain, my throat, every artery, every toe, every inch of cartilage -- a tortuous conflagration of scalding agony. That was all I knew. That was all I could comprehend.

For centuries, for millennia; for aching, wrenching seconds after seconds after seconds. Burning. Scorching. Melting. Baking. Branding. Searing. Toasting. Torching. Blazing. Charring...Fire. Every cell in my body must be sizzling, bubbling with the heat of it. I had thought nothing could be worse than that pain of transformation. I was wrong. Maybe it had just been so long ago, but it seemed like the fire of the vampire venom was a single scorching blaze. Now the vampire venom was raging against the fire of the werewolf venom, each trying to consume me in their ravenous flames, each trying to win by growing bigger, hotter, more excruciating. I remembered hoping for death as I changed, as Maria watched emotionless over my writhing figure. I prayed for death. Now even death seemed too much to hope for. I prayed even for the pain of the vampire venom. One pain had to be better than this dual torture, one bonfire better than two -- merely burning at a stake rather than blistering in the inferno of a blazing city. Just numb it, I thought, just lessen it. Something. Something. Anything. Every second I knew I could not bear another moment, another instant. Every second I knew I must somehow end from the pain. It couldn't be possible that someone could experience this much agony. It just couldn't be possible.

But it was possible. The pain stretched on and on. I couldn't tell for how long. Time was meaningless. Time didn't exist. All that existed was the fire. All there was was pain and burning, burning and pain. Flame and agony and white-hot heat and torture. Endless tortuous suffering. Pain. Fire. Unbearable. Unendurable. Pain and fire, fire and pain, burning, burning, burning.

I tried to focus on something else. I knew, somewhere in my head, that after that first day or so of transformation I had been able to think _around_ the pain, to at least center my thoughts on something else. Even that would be a welcome relief. It would not numb the pain, but it would be something _different_. But I couldn't. I couldn't think, I couldn't remember. I couldn't keep a coherent thought in my head. Every thought was consumed by the fire, driven out the instant it tried to work its way into my brain by the unbearable torment. The pain that had to end. It had to. Didn't it? How could there be anything left to burn? How could there be anything left to consume?

Thoughts flitted into my head, memories. Some seemed to stick for a millisecond before they were swallowed by the flames. That first battle with Maria in Monterey, those first newborns attacking. I was only a newborn myself, but the sting of the venom bit through my veins. That pain couldn't even register now; it was like dipping my feet into a cold mountain stream.

That hulking male outside of Marietta, Georgia, nearly as big and strong as Emmett, sinking his teeth into my right shoulder and ripping off my left arm and a chunk of my hair -- and scalp -- as he did so. That had been excruciating -- or I thought it had been. Now it seemed the caress of a feather, the softest, lightest breeze, barely noticeable, barely perceivable.

That coven of thirty-two in Natchez, Mississippi -- one of the largest covens I had ever seen -- all coming at me and my pitiful newborn army of seventeen with eyes blazing and teeth bared. I had certainly taken the brunt of that advance. I had been pinned down by six newborn vampires for nearly thirty seconds before I could wrench myself free, and they had done their damage in that short span of time. Maria had started looking for a new lieutenant after that one -- she doubted I would recover. Dozens upon dozens of venomous bites and chunks of flesh ripped from the bone; and ear torn off and a sinew ripped from my forearm; my leg rent from my body at the knee and tossed who-knows-where. It had taken them four hours to find my leg, and the whole time the agony had been unendurable. Somehow, though, I could not remember that pain. There had _been_ no pain before this. Those wounds were incomprehensible now -- a subtle tapping at my knee and ear, the easiest touch of silk on my arm. The worst torment I had endured in my existence -- and I had endured worlds more than my fair share -- was not even a pin prick now. It was not even a mosquito bite. I couldn't believe I had felt, endured, anything before now. There had been nothing else.

Slowly, so slowly, so slowly I couldn't be sure it was really happening, the fire seemed to lessen the tiniest fraction, the pain to ease a modicum of a fragment. A little, so little. So little it was barely noticeable. So minutely it took me a hundred years to process it. But it faded. Miraculously. It was less. Then, another hundred years, it faded more. Slowly, so slowly, so very, very, slowly, the pain began to ebb away. Was this it, then? Was I dying? No, there was still too much agony for that. Unless this was Hell.

I felt my stone heart ripped from my chest. I opened my eyes and I could see the flames now. They were everywhere. There _was_ nothing else. This was Hell, then. I supposed it didn't surprise me, not really. I supposed I had always known. I reached out my hand and the flame sizzled my skin, searing my flesh. The pain was excruciating, but no more or less than the constant blaze I was experiencing. I pulled back my blackened hand and examined it, watching in awe as the burnt tissue reformed bit by bit, grew back. Slowly my skin became pale and white again. Was this some kind of torture? Like the mythical Prometheus who was punished by the gods for stealing fire and giving it to man; chained to a rock and doomed, each day, to have an eagle eat his liver from his body, only to have the liver re-grow during the night so he could endure the same torture day after day?

I heard screams through the flames, pleas, cries. I was afraid. I didn't want to hear these sounds, didn't want to see what made them. But my feet began moving, against my will, toward the cries. I stepped through the flames and I stood suddenly in a dark alley, dirty, unkempt. The fire raged on in my veins, but finally, finally, I could focus on something else; this strange dark alley. No, not strange. I knew this place, somehow. I had been here before, a lifetime ago. Trash was piled high in garbage cans along the side of the dark brick walls and graffiti decorated the surfaces. I saw a terrified girl, no older than a teenager, running and tripping into the alley. I felt her fear, her panic. I felt her near-hysteria.

A figure stalked after her, walking slowly, purposefully, after her down the alley. He strode with sure, measured steps, making no sounds. The girl reached the wall and whirled in terror, realizing she was cornered. The figure -- I couldn't see his face, obscured by darkness as it was -- stalked forward. Step. Step.

"Please," the girl begged, falling to her knees, "please."

The light glinted off the figure's teeth in the pale light of the distant streetlamps. Step. Step. He was enjoying this, enjoying her fear. He reached her then and grabbed the collar of her jacket roughly, pulling the trembling, pleading girl to her feet. Just as he bent down to pierce her throat with his gleaming teeth he turned and looked straight at me, meeting my gaze. With a thrill of horror I recognized the figure, the murderer.

"No!" I tried to yell, but my voice made no sound. With another jolt I realized the terrified girl was no stranger. It was Kristalene -- petrified and frozen in panic.

"No!" I screamed again as the dark me lowered his mouth to her throat and sank his steel teeth into her skin.

I was alone in the Forks house. I knew I was alone, but I ran into the living room, up the stairs, into Edward's old room, Rosalie and Emmett's, Carlisle and Esme's, mine and Alice's, looking, hoping. No one. It was dark in here. Dark in a way nothing had been since I was human. The lack of light actually made it difficult to see.

"Alice!" I called out, my voice echoing through the empty house, "Alice!" She wasn't there. No one was there. A movement out the second story hall window caught my eye and I pressed my hands and face to the glass, looking out on the backyard.

"Alice!" I called again. And there she was, her back to me, a lone tiny figure standing in a sea of green. "Alice!" I banged on the glass, but she didn't turn. She didn't hear me. "Alice!" I repeated over and over, banging and hitting the glass, trying desperately to get her attention, "Alice!"

And then I saw him. A huge leering wolf, easily five times Alice's size. He was pacing back and forth over the stone boulder, back and forth, watching Alice below. I yelled at her from the trees, screamed at her to get out of there, but she didn't hear me. She still stood, frozen, lonely and miniscule at the base of the boulder. I tried to run to her, to save her, but my body wouldn't respond. I was paralyzed, motionless.

"Alice!" I yelled again and again. I saw the evil wolf lowering himself into a crouch, tensing to spring. Alice didn't even see him. She would stand no chance. "Alice," I whispered, panic choking me. The wolf sailed through the air, his aim perfect, gravity closing the gap between his venomous fangs and my tiny angel in the blink of an eye.

"We have to go, Jasper, we have to!" Alice yelled, grabbing my hand and yanking me into the Olympic forest.

"No, we can't leave them!" I argued, resisting her pull. How could she even ask this of me? Ask me to leave my family when the Volturi were coming? Was she insane?

"We have to, Jazz," she whispered, and I could hear the pain in her voice. "Aro has to believe I have left, that I'm not coming back. We have to find the other, the other half-vampire. Everything depends on it. Every_one_ depends on it. We have to."

I didn't want to leave. I couldn't. They would never understand. They would think we had abandoned them in the darkest hour to save our own hides. I couldn't bear them thinking that. I'd rather die.

"They'll die too," Alice growled, angry now. "Is that what you want? Are you willing to sacrifice _everyone _for your good name?" She spat the words at me, contemptuous, incredulous. No, I couldn't do that. I couldn't let them get hurt.

"But they _need_ us," I argued defiantly.

"They need the other one more. They need this plan, this chance, Jasper. It's their _only_ chance."

I wanted to stay. I tried to stay. But Alice pulled me, pulled me with such strength I couldn't resist. She pulled me through the woods, past the wolves, across the driftwood and stones and into the sea. The cold of the ocean crept into my chest, into my stomach. They would never forgive me. They would _hate_ me. Esme and Carlisle would try to sympathize, though their hearts were breaking, say I was free to come and go as I wished. Bella would be sad, lose hope, thinking we had escaped because there was no way they could win. Edward would try not to hate Alice. He loved Alice. But he'd hate me. I had betrayed him. Betrayed them all. Emmett and Rosalie -- the things Rosalie would say! I deserved them all. I deserved worse. And Renesmee. My darling brilliant incredible miracle child. What would she think? Would she be old enough to understand? Would she hate me too?

Renesmee in that little pink dress Rosalie had picked out. The lacy frilly number with the big bow in the back. Renesmee racing through the trees, following Jacob, following Emmett.

"Now, Nessie -- no, don't do that! Yeah, one quick swipe! Now jump to the side, kid. Good! That one's pretty big -- are you sure? Okay, well, go for it -- oh! Good one! Regular little huntress we got here, Jazz! Save some bears for your Uncle Emmett, Ness..."

My eyes followed the little girl with the bronze curls as she ran across the open lawn in front of the big white Hanover house. As my eyes flipped to the house -- new and clean, the paint bright and the ivy jade green -- the child changed. She was a little girl in that same pink dress, flaxen curls bouncing as she ran through the tall grass, calling to her brother.

"Jackson," she called, her voice high and sweet, "Come back! Jackson!"

I chuckled as the little boy, in breeches and stockings, jumped from his hiding place in the grass and tackled his sister, both of them tumbling to the ground in laughter. I watched them wrestle and giggle, thoroughly enjoying their game, thoroughly oblivious to the grass and dirt they were kicking up around them.

"Oh, Jasper, they'll ruin their clothes again," Alice chided, but when I looked there was a smile on her exquisite face. Her hair was cropped short and her cheeks were pink and rosy. She wore a straight, navy blue dress that fell to her knees, delicate embroidery hemming the low waist. She was so beautiful, so happy. This was right for her, the way she was always meant to be. A sense of happiness and contentedness overwhelmed me, filled my chest and throat. My beautiful Alice. My beautiful family.

On her hip Alice bounced a chubby-cheeked baby girl, clad in a white dress with a thick lace collar. The girl had jet black hair, thick for a child her age, and beautiful, striking gold eyes. She smiled at me and giggled.

I took her from Alice's arms, swung her up and held her above my head. She laughed delightedly. My little Kristalene, I thought. So beautiful. So perfect. I cradled her in my arms and looked into her perfect face with awe. What could I have done to deserve something so incredible? The baby smiled and grasped at the breast of my vest with her perfectly formed little fingers.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Alice breathed as she leaned around my shoulder and admired our child. _Our_ child. Incredible.

"She's absolutely exquisite," I replied, stroking the child's rosy cheek with the side of one finger. The gorgeous baby beamed up at me and I could feel Alice's supreme contentedness. Perfect happiness. I felt it too. This was all I wanted. All I could possibly have hoped for. I heard Alice's soft breath and heartbeat in my ear, the baby's cooing and giggling, my children's laughing and footfalls as they gamboled and played. I stared again into my beautiful baby's brilliant gold eyes, the thick dark lashes blinking in the glittering sun, the full pink lips parted over the perfect tiny teeth. So beautiful. So perfect.

And then she was at my side, no longer a baby, but the beautiful teenage child I had known. She was so perfect. So lovely. She smiled at me, her cheeks rosy and her skin creamy. I couldn't remember why, but her perfection made me sad. I felt a pang in my stomach.

I looked at her as she continued to smile. I felt a tightening in my chest. This wasn't right. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She began walking away, into the dark forest, still smiling stunningly over her shoulder at me.

"Don't leave me," she whispered. But I wasn't leaving her, she was leaving me. Where was she going? Stop! I thought. Come back to me.

"Don't leave me, Jasper," she said again, though her mouth didn't move. She just smiled at me and faded further and further into the dark trees.

Wait! I thought. Come back! Come back!

I couldn't understand. The overwhelming happiness that had filled my chest was tightening, changing. It was no longer happiness. It was a steel vice, constricting my ribs, squeezing out my air.

I ran after her, the tall grass taller than I had remembered it, thicker, tangling itself around my legs and arms as I tried to run. The sky was dark, again that darkness that made it hard to see. And then the tall grass was thick trees, thick gnarled trunks draped in brown-green moss. Those glowering dead Halloween trees with the grasping leafless branches. They frightened me.

"What have you done, Jasper?" An angry voice accused. I whirled around to see Maria, clothed in that long white dress with the embroidered hem and red shawl, the ones she had been wearing the first night I met her on the road. She was glaring at me, resentful. "What have you done?" she repeated.

I stared at her, not knowing how to respond. What _had_ I done? I'd always followed Maria's orders, always done exactly as she bid. I was her number one, her lieutenant. As I continued to stare at her, confused, she stepped aside. No, not stepped -- for there was no movement of her feet -- hovered. On the forest floor, covered in moss and leaves and twigs, lay a crumpled figure. I knew at once it was Kristalene. I couldn't see her face but I knew. I recognized her pale hands and homespun blue dress. I recognized her dark, thick, curls. A stab of pain and panic pierced my stomach.

I ran to Kristalene's side, fell at my knees beside her. No, no, no! What had happened? I wanted to touch her, to hold her, but I felt somehow that I ... that I didn't deserve to be able to touch her. That I was not entitled.

"I didn't do this," I breathed to Maria who still stood, glowering down at me.

"No, you didn't. You disobeyed. You _will_ follow orders, Jasper."

I looked at her, a mixture of confusion and relief washing through me. I hadn't done this. Thank God. I hadn't done this.

"Do as I say, Jasper," Maria commanded. I looked down at Kristalene, now in my arms. As I squeezed her, her face turned and her hair fell away. She looked at me helplessly.

"She's alive!" I gasped, joy and relief overfilling me.

"Yes. You disobeyed," Maria repeated. I stared at her helplessly. I had disobeyed. She wanted the child dead, and I hadn't complied. I was her number one. I was supposed to follow orders. That's what a good soldier did. And that's what I was, a good soldier. That's _all_ I was.

I looked down at Kristalene again. I was supposed to kill her. I was supposed to ... and I couldn't. I could feel Maria's fury at my insubordination rising, feel her wrath as I continued not to do what she wanted me to do.

With a stab of horror and a sadness so strong it sucked the breath from my body I saw that my beautiful sweet child was dying. Her belly was covered in blood, covered in a gaping horrific wound. I felt my stomach turn. I was absolutely appalled, literally frozen in revulsion and fear and grief. I wanted to help the child, to save her. But I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything. She looked up at my face, so frightened, so defenseless.

"Come back," she whimpered. She seemed so sad, so hopeless.

I'm here, I thought. I'm here.

"Don't leave me, Jasper. Come back." She was so desperate, so despairing. It was too much! I wanted to end her fear, end her sadness. What could I do?

I suddenly realized the forest was very cold. And very dark. So dark and so cold. The icy chill crept into my bones, into my chest, crushing me again, constricting me in that frozen steel vise. I couldn't see. Everything was black and somehow blurry, swirling. I was in the water. In that cold, cold ocean. I was leaving. I was leaving my family, everyone I loved. Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Bella, Rosalie, Emmett ... Renesmee. I was leaving with Alice. But where was Alice?

I turned in the arctic black water to look for her, but she wasn't there. She was gone. She was gone, too.

"Alice!" I tried to scream out, but the water filled my mouth, filled my lungs. It tasted like acid. It both froze and burned -- like it was so cold it felt hot. I thrashed around in the water, trying to find Alice, trying to find the surface. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. My body was stuck in this liquid that was far too thick, far too viscous to be water. There was too much resistance. I could hardly keep from sinking. It was like flailing around in thick syrup, in molasses; it clung to me, restricted my movements. Where was Alice? Where was she? I had to find her. I couldn't lose her, too.

Then I heard her voice, a million miles away, but I heard it. The most beautiful, perfect, melodic sound on the face of the earth -- the most beautiful, perfect, melodic sound _anywhere_. An angel's choir. Tinkling silver wind chimes. A dazzling melody floating on a soft wind. But it was off, somehow, not quite right. It was so desperate, so sad. She sounded heartbroken.

"Don't leave me, Jasper," she sobbed, "Come back. Don't leave me."

I wouldn't leave her, of course not! What did she mean? I tried to find her in the thick, freezing, acidic syrup. I couldn't quite see. I couldn't quite move. But I could hear her. I ... I could _smell_ her -- that familiar, calming, enticing, beautiful soft scent, the most wonderful scent in the world. My Alice. I could smell her! She had to be close!

And then, somehow, I thought I could _feel_ her. I couldn't be sure -- I was still stuck in the syrup -- but somehow I _knew_ she was touching me, that she was with me. Some of the ice cold thawed from my chest. The steel bands of the vise loosened ever so slightly. My angel was here, somewhere! She was here!

But I still couldn't see her, I still couldn't move, couldn't reach my hand out and touch her. She was close, though, I was sure of it. She was close and that knowledge was such an overwhelming warmth of relief that I felt the ice thaw a little more, felt the syrup become a little less viscous.

"Alice!" I tried to call. The acid didn't fill my mouth this time, but the syrup stuck to my tongue, to my jaw. I couldn't move to make the words come out.

"Jasper. Jasper," she was crying. She was in so much pain! I had to get to her -- I had to help her somehow. I struggled again in the thick water, kicking and thrashing. I had to get to her.

"Alice!" I tried to yell, "Alice..."

I was moving, slowly, swaying. I was rocking softly back and forth in the water. Alice's scent was growing stronger. Her devastated voice growing clearer, closer.

"Fight, Jasper! Come back! You can't leave me! You can't!" she mourned. I couldn't stand it anymore! I had to help her, I had to stop her pain!

"Alice," I croaked. And suddenly I was aware. Suddenly I realized that I had spoken. I still couldn't see or move my body, but I was awake now. No longer dreaming, no longer trapped in the icy, thick water, no longer trapped inside my head. In the way that humans spoke in response to their dreams, waking themselves up with their own voice, so I was woken, jolted into reality by the word I could barely whisper.

I heard Alice's shocked intake of breath. I felt her arms loosen as she pulled her body back to look at me. I felt her emotions, the black, panicked, heartbroken, helpless, lost fear erased, replaced suddenly and overwhelmingly by hope.

"Jasper?" she gasped in a voice a good two octaves higher than normal.

"Alice," I repeated. I was so happy I had found her, so happy to feel the change in her emotions. I could sense so much now. I could feel cold hard stone beneath my body, jagged and lumpy. I could feel Alice's tiny arms around my neck as she held my head in her soft, warm lap. Very warm, in fact. Her body felt much warmer than it should, almost hot -- the way Renesmee felt to my cold skin. My brain still wasn't working enough to make sense of everything I took in, but I didn't much care. Alice was here. She was safe. She was all right. It was cold and damp and musty where we were, but I could smell and feel and hear Alice, and that was all I cared about in this moment.

"Oh, my love! My darling! You're all right! You're all right!" Alice clung to me tightly, kissing my cheek and brow and jaw over and over again. I could feel the relief overwhelming her, and her body shook with new tearless sobs. Sobs of relief and happiness.

I tried to speak again, but my throat was frozen closed. Or burned closed. It was hard to tell. Again, it was like it was so cold it burned. I tried to swallow -- another freezing, burning ache -- and managed a dry croak.

"I found you," I rasped. I tried to open my eyes to see her, to see the angel before me, but there was such a weight on them, they were so heavy. I just didn't have the strength to lift that weight yet.

"Oh, Jasper! My love! Jasper!" she sobbed, stroking and kissing my face. "I thought you had left me! I thought -- I thought --"

That black pain again, that heartbreak.

"No," I tried to say, but my voice was so feeble. I didn't want her to be so sad. I couldn't bear it.

"I didn't know if -- if you'd -- if you _could_--"

"No," I said, more forcefully this time. Her pain was too much. I struggled with the weight on my eyes again. I could feel my strength returning, but slowly, very slowly. It was not a sudden jolt like my awareness. I pushed at the weights. I was able to force them back a millimeter. I saw the blurred outline of the angel in front of me. I saw the halo of dark hair and the pale luminescent skin. I saw the vague shadow of the dark eyes, staring apprehensively at my face.

"Oh, my love, thank God! Thank God! What would I have done, Jazz? What would I have done?"

I couldn't bear it. I had to make her stop somehow. Why was she so sad? I tried to remember, tried to remember what had happened, how we had gotten here, wherever "here" was. Vaguely, as though through a cold fog or mist, as though through that icy thick water, I recalled danger, I recalled loss, I recalled pain. It came back to me slowly. But when I had it all, I wished I had kept the memories at arm's length, kept them blurred through the mist. Reality was excruciating. It was too much. My Kristalene. My perfect, perfect, beautiful girl. She was gone, wasn't she? She was dead.

"Kristalene," I gasped as the pain hit me, a thousand stabbing knives of grief. I felt Alice's pain intensify and I immediately wished I had kept my agony to myself. I pushed at the weight on my lids again and forced my eyes open another millimeter. The narrow line of vision was blurry, but becoming clearer gradually. Alice's face was contorted in anguish.

"Yes. She's gone," she breathed, barely able to force sound into the words. I let the weights take over then and shut my eyes tight. My sweet, beautiful, kind-hearted girl. Gone. Gone.

"The wolf?" My snarl of hatred was strangled and pitifully dull. I tried to swallow again.

"He's gone, too," Alice spat through clenched teeth. I opened my eyes at her reaction -- farther this time, half-way open. She glared past me in fury tinged with ... retribution.

"How?" I managed.

"Well, you all but finished him off--" she cut off and her emotions were panicked again. I guessed she was remembering the wolf's final attack. I tried to move my hand to comfort her, but I couldn't find my limbs somehow. I still couldn't move. I was still paralyzed and frozen. "--but after he ... bit ... you," she sucked in a gasp of air, "I -- I ripped his throat out. He died pretty quickly after that."

She looked at me with a cold glare of vengeance, of defiance, as though daring me to rebuke her for her blatant revenge. I stared at her in awe; not because I felt any judgement at the knowledge she had killed another creature in cold blood -- that monster deserved no pity and would not be missed from this life -- but because she looked almost frightening, almost crazed. I had never seen her look more like ... more like a vampire, more like the monsters of myth. She looked dark and deadly.

"I'm glad," I whispered simply. That evil beast deserved far worse than the quick death he got. He was lucky. He was spared the fate, the _justice_, he had earned.

Alice seemed unable to keep the fierce anger inside of her. It evaporated with an almost audible "whoosh," instantly replaced by sadness and fear and relief.

"Are you okay, darling? Are you still in pain?"

I thought about that. Until she had mentioned it my whole body felt numb from the freezing burn. I had been unable to _feel_ any specific part of me to ascertain whether I was still hurting or not. I remembered, with a stab of agony, the raw searing burn of the venom fire. I didn't feel that now, at least. But I started to ache, to hurt. It was nothing compared to the thousands of vampire bites and torn-off appendages and gashed scratches I had recovered from over the past century and a half -- but it was enough. Not unbearable, but still painful.

"I'll live," I smiled weakly, realizing as I did so that I could find my facial muscles and almost simultaneously realizing that it was very painful to use them. I tried not to let the stabs of pain show on my face. Alice had suffered enough.

"I --" the blackness again, "I didn't know if it would work, if I had gotten it all out. I was so scared, I was terrified..." She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, burying her face in my chest, "It didn't work for Kristalene," she whimpered, "but your wound was smaller, fresher. I prayed that the venom hadn't gotten as far with you. I did everything I could, but..." She clutched me closer, the agony of her near-loss filling her again.

"I'm okay," I whispered, "I'm fine." It was a good thing she couldn't feel _my_ emotions. She'd know how blatantly I was lying, though maybe she knew anyway. Alice usually knew what I was feeling. But I was alive -- thanks to her. I would survive. I tried again to lift my arm to comfort her. As with my face, I learned I _could _move my arm just in time to wish I hadn't. With much pain and effort I raised my hand to the closest part of Alice I could find, her forearm, wrapped around my bare chest. Again I realized how unnaturally warm she felt to me.

"Why are you so hot?" I asked, trying to keep the anxiety from my voice. Had she ingested some of the venom when she was trying to save me? Was she beginning to burn, too? She raised her gorgeous striking eyes, tense with pain and worry, to meet mine.

"I'm not hot," she answered, pressing the back of her hand to my cheek the way mother's check their children's temperatures, "You're _freezing_, even colder than usual. You have been since ... since a half an hour or so after you were bitten. You're practically glacial. Do you feel okay? Are you cold?"

Worried again, anxious.

"No, I'm fine," I lied again, squeezing her arm weakly. "Tell me what happened. How long was I ... out? Where are we?" I became aware that we were not in the open clearing near the stone boulder where I had fought the werewolf. We were inside somewhere. Somewhere dark and damp and rocky. I could see the dark stone around us, the distant circular glow that must be daylight. How had we gotten here? _Why_ were we here?

"Well, after you saved me -- I'm so sorry Jasper, it was all my fault! It was stupid of me, but I was so afraid something might happen to you, and then -- and then I _caused_ it..." She rushed through the words in a tumble of grief and fathomless guilt. She seemed unable to finish, but looked at my face pleadingly, as though begging for my forgiveness. I nearly laughed at the thought that she should want forgiveness from _me _-- wasn't this all my fault? Hadn't I been the one to go running off to fight an unknown and lethal enemy with a mind so clouded with vengeance and anguish that I couldn't think clearly? Hadn't _I_ almost gotten _both of us_ killed?

"Darling, don't be ridiculous," I said softly, patting her hot satin arm again. I _must_ be freezing -- she felt like a red-hot poker. "You didn't _do_ this -- you _saved_ me. If it weren't for you..." I trailed off, feeling the panic rising in her again. It wouldn't do to focus on the "almost."

"But I, I..."

"Stop it, Alice. I'm fine. This is my fault. I shouldn't have let my guard down, no matter what. It was ... careless of me." I gritted my teeth. That bit of "carelessness" had almost cost me my life, and, far, far worse, much more unforgivable, Alice's life. Neither of us would be able to survive long without the other. As much as Edward's little trip to Italy had irked and exasperated me at first -- seeming an intensely dramatic overreaction (I hadn't yet understood how deep his love for Bella really was, I had still seen it as more of an infatuation that would fade with time) -- then seriously enraged and terrified me as Alice had put herself at the mercy of the Volturi to save him, I completely understood his actions. All of us did. It wasn't really even a choice to continue on without our soul mates; our entire beings had been irreparably changed by their existence, and "life" without them would not only be meaningless, it would be literally unbearable. If Alice ... died -- I could hardly bear to think the words -- I would live exactly long enough to avenge her however I could, and then I would follow. Immediately. If I died, well, Alice would do no less. And a world without Alice was like Heaven with no angels. It would be sad and dark and not existence at all. A world without Alice was a void, a black hole. Non-existence.

"Oh, baby, I was so worried. I just didn't know what to do! There wasn't anything else I _could_ do. And just sitting here with you, waiting, not able to _help_ -- it was excruciating!"

I tried to change the subject.

"And where is here?" I hinted.

"It's an old mine, I think." She looked around us briefly, her eyes not really resting on anything, and then she returned her penetrating gaze to me. She seemed to be trying to gauge how badly I was hurting, watching for any twitch or flinch that would betray how much pain I was in. I set my jaw into the best grin I could manage. I hoped it didn't look too forced.

"And you thought we needed a change of scenery, did you?"

She smiled stiffly at my poor joke, but the contrived humor didn't touch her eyes.

"Well, after I heard the other ones, yes, I thought a change of scenery would be the best plan."

My body tensed immediately, instinctually preparing for battle. I clenched my jaw, hard, to keep from grimacing or moaning in pain as the movement sent the raw ache through my muscles. It was like a file on exposed nerves. I bit down, gritting my teeth together like a steel trap.

Alice felt my tension and quickly explained.

"Don't worry, they're gone now. As far as I can tell the 'full moon' legends are true -- once the sun rose and the moon disappeared, so did they. I don't think they can phase again for another month."

"But there were more? Where were they? Where did they come from? Why were they here?" I was angry now. I tried to calm myself -- the stress was not helping my aching body.

"I don't know. I'm not even sure how many of them there were -- I was too distracted by you to really focus. More than two, though. I think they must have heard some of the fight, or heard me yelling or -- or you screaming --"

This caught me off guard.

"I was screaming?"

"Yes," Alice whispered, looking down at my bare chest but not really seeing. "You were in immense pain. Don't you remember?" She raised her eyes to meet mine, seeming almost hopeful that my answer was negative. I briefly considered lying to her, but I knew she'd see through me. The memory was still too crystal clear for me to be able to lie convincingly.

"Yes," I mumbled, "I remember." Alice quickly continued her story.

"Well, about two minutes after that -- that _thing_," she spat the word,_ "_bit you, I heard howling. I couldn't be sure how far away it was -- a mile or two maybe -- but I knew they could get to us quickly if they wanted to. I couldn't fight them off _and_ save you. So I dragged you away to the south. I saw a cave there in my visions and I thought that if I had to fight, it would be a more easily defensible spot than out in the open." She smiled at me, slightly. "See, you taught me well."

I smiled back. Anything to lighten her emotions. "That's my girl."

"So I dragged you in here as fast as I could -- you're a heavy man, Jasper Cullen -- and I just hoped they wouldn't follow. I didn't have any time to cover my tracks, though I'm sure the scent would have read like a lighted billboard. I had to finish getting the venom out. I did everything we did with Kristalene. I sucked out all the venom -- I couldn't taste even a trace of it inside you anymore -- and I bit you, too," she looked at me apologetically again, begging my forgiveness.

"That was smart," I nodded quickly, digging my nails into my palms to ignore the feeling of filed nerves the brisk movement of my head brought on.

"After a couple hours the wound sealed, and I hoped that would be it. But you were _so_ cold, and you just didn't wake up. All night long I waited, waited for it to be over, one way or the other. I almost hoped that, that if it were over ... if you were going to ... die ... you'd do it quickly so I could still find those werewolves."

My hand tightened around her arm. She glared at me defiantly. After a moment I sighed and relaxed my grip. There was no point telling her -- for a millionth time, as we had had this discussion many times before in the past fifty years -- that if something were to happen to me I would want her to go on. I had tried the guilt-trip, "For Esme and the family's sake," the angry, "Is that what you'd want _me_ to do?," and the pleading, "That isn't what I want. Go on. For me." None of it had worked. Alice would never promise me that she would try to continue in a world where I no longer existed. I patted her arm empathetically. I would have done exactly the same -- though I would have tried to take all but one of the werewolves down with me. There needed to be one monster left to take my life.

"You just seemed to get colder and colder, and you didn't move at all. I never wished for blood and a heartbeat before, but I wished you'd had one then, so I could at least tell what was happening. I couldn't even be sure you were still ... alive."

I shut my eyes again. The pain she must have endured in the past however-many hours -- what time was it, anyway? -- wondering whether I would live or die. Wondering whether she was cradling a corpse in her arms, a dead shell of the man she loved. Suddenly I was almost grateful for the agony I had suffered. At least I only had to suffer for myself. If it had been Alice in my place, if I had been holding her cold, lifeless body in my arms, I didn't think we'd be having a conversation now. I think I'd have gone mad.

"Couldn't you see me waking up?" I asked, grasping to divert her.

"No, I couldn't see you at all. Carlisle thinks maybe the venom had something to do with it -- in the same way I can't see others when they're with the Quilieute wolves because their whole ... being creates a kind of cloak. He thinks the wolf's venom kept me from seeing you. You were part werewolf, in a sense, and nothing was in your control. I couldn't see what you'd choose or what would become of you because they weren't your decisions to make. There was no choice -- just like the wolves."

I was silent a moment, pondering this. Part wolf. Ech! I hated the thought that I had _anything_ in common with that vile, contemptuous creature. Alice continued, forlorn and black again.

"That was the only thing that could pull me away from you -- I had to know. I tried to call Carlisle but I couldn't get any reception in here. About three hours ago I walked out of the mine and called him. I thought that, if you were ... gone ... I could make it to Volterra by nightfall--"

I did grab her arm tightly at that, a hiss escaping my lips. A werewolf death was one thing, though it was much more painful than I would want my little angel to endure, but the Volturi were another altogether. And it would take some serious law-breaking on Alice's part to get the Volturi to harm her. Aro wanted her too badly. He'd never kill her unless there were no other alternatives.

"You will _not_ go to the Volturi," I snarled, my voice stronger than it had been since I'd awoken. "Promise me. If it -- if it ever comes to that, find another way."

She glared back at me stubbornly, but she seemed to understand the fervor of my request. Her expression relaxed minutely, though her jaw was still set tightly, and she nodded.

"You know, I have less options than Edward did or you do. Everyone seems rather unwilling to harm such a little girl."

Her near-outrage would have been comical if the very subject were not so abhorrent. I tried to push the conversation toward lightheartedness. Well, lighter-heartedness.

"I'm sure you'll find _someone_ you can annoy enough into doing it. You have your ways."

Again she tried to smile, but the attempt was half-hearted at best.

"Well, anyway, I called Carlisle. I had to repeat myself a half-dozen times because I couldn't get the words out. I was so panicked. I told him what had happened and what I had done. I asked him for his ... professional opinion. He said that your skin sealing was a good sign. He said maybe it was like a human recovering from certain poisons. Your body temperature would drop and you'd be in a sort of coma until your immune system could fight off the venom enough to pull you back to consciousness. He gave me some hope, but I couldn't be sure he wasn't just humoring me, making sure I didn't ... _do_ anything ... until her got here to stop me. He, Esme, and Emmett are on their way here now. Bella wouldn't let Edward go near the Volturi, after Carlisle assured her it wasn't necessary. They're holding down the fort with Rosalie until we get back." The reality of her words seemed to sink in. We were going back. I was all right and both of us would be returning to Forks together, alive. Her emotions brightened remarkably.

"So, how long was I out?" I repeated. Now that the essentials were established -- Alice was safe, I was alive and on the mend, we were no longer in immediate danger -- I wanted as much information as she could give me.

"I don't know, twelve hours maybe? It seemed like a very long time..."

Only twelve hours. Far less time than it had taken me to make the change from human to vampire. It didn't seem any shorter a duration, though. Time had not existed in that Hell. I shuddered at the thought before I could stop myself, and Alice hovered over me, anxious again.

"I'm all right," I assured her. I tried to sit up. A raw searing ache grated down my muscles and Alice pushed me lightly back onto her lap.

"Don't move yet. Let's just wait a while. Your body's been through a lot. Do you need anything? Are you thirsty?"

Now that she mentioned it, there was a dull burning ache in my throat. I swallowed involuntarily. Why was I thirsty? I had just hunted two days ago. My body must have used all the energy the blood provided to fight off the venom, and now I was drained. But the thought of Alice leaving me was far more excruciating than the burn of thirst. I remembered quite clearly, _too _clearly -- well, remembered the feeling, for the memories were blurry -- losing Alice, being unable to find her in the Forks house or the icy black water. The thought of losing her again, for however brief a time, was almost unbearable.

"I'm fine," I lied, but I knew she had not missed my convulsive swallowing. "Don't ... don't leave me. Not yet." I whispered. She looked distressed, but she nodded. I knew her desire to do whatever was necessary to get me well again was warring with her fear and guilt at leaving me, too. But I would live. Alice's proximity seemed as necessary to me as air at this moment; far more essential to my recovery than blood.

"So, tell me everything, from the beginning. The ... wolf bit me, you ripped his throat out," I couldn't suppress a proud half-smile at that thought, "you started sucking out the venom, you heard the others, you dragged me into an old mine, and then what?"

"Well, I sucked out the rest of the venom, like I said, and I bit you, here, here, and here," she brushed her satin fingers across my jugular, chest, and the crease inside my right elbow. Far from being angry or irritated, I found that I actually _liked_ the thought that Alice's bites would now scar my skin; I would bear the mark of her love and devotion forever. Maybe it was a little twisted, but the idea made me feel a little warmer inside, knowing we were tied together in this tangible way, knowing I bore the physical proof of her efforts to save my life. The corners of my mouth rose ever so slightly. She still sounded guilty. "And then I just waited. I could feel you getting colder every minute and I wasn't sure what that meant. When your wound healed I hoped that would put an end to my panic, but nothing else happened. You didn't wake up, you didn't move at all. It's strange -- Carlisle said often people will dream very vividly and talk and thrash around when recovering from venom or poison. But with you there was nothing."

She looked at me curiously, wondering what, if anything, had gone on in the confines of my subconscious while I was so still. I remembered the dreams -- or nightmares -- blurry at first, but I found that as I concentrated on them they returned to me more clearly, more vividly. What I still remembered most acutely were the feelings those dreams evoked, though. The feeling of discomfort and then horror as I saw myself attack the young girl -- Kristalene -- in the alley; the panic and complete fear as I searched for Alice and then saw the wolf leap at her; the sadness and guilt as I abandoned my family; the immense happiness and contentment as I held my baby -- Kristalene again -- and watched my children play, Alice at my side; the confusion and relief and guilt when Maria had asked me to murder my little Kristalene and I had refused; the immense, intense relief when I realized that I could hear Alice and that she was near. These emotions were much stronger, much more tangible, than the dreams themselves.

But I didn't think I could talk about them yet. They were private, somehow, my own Heaven, my own Hell. Someday I would tell Alice what I had seen, what had gone on in the fiery prison of my mind, but not yet.

"I don't really remember," I said clearly, looking her straight in the eye. I used all my persuasive powers to tell the lie. Alice looked wary, but she didn't press the matter. I wasn't sure if she believed me or just assumed I wasn't ready to talk about it yet and was letting it go. Either way, I was grateful.

"So, you just lay there, cold as ice, still as stone, just there. I was a little hysterical, as you can imagine, so it's all a bit of a blur, but I just kept asking myself what I would do if ... if you left me. If you left me here alone. What was I going to do? I tried to keep hope, but after Kristalene I just didn't know... Finally I couldn't take it anymore and I called Carlisle. He gave me that hope that was slipping through my fingers before, gave me a reason to hold on. He told me to sit tight and just wait and that he'd be here in less than fifteen hours. Like I said, that was about three hours ago, so he should be here around," she pulled the tiny silver cell phone from her pocket and glanced at the time, "nine o'clock tonight or so."

"How are they getting here so fast?" I wondered. It seemed ages ago that Alice and I had made the trip to Paris and then to Minsk and then driven for a day to get to Belaveskaya Pushcha. My brain felt too sluggish to do the math, but it seemed like it had taken us much longer than fifteen hours.

"I don't know," Alice murmured, hovering over me in maternal anxiety again, "I didn't ask. All I really cared about at the time was that Carlisle said he thought you were going to make it and that he and Esme were coming here to help me and make sure. Nothing else really crossed my mind."

I nodded softly, knowing how she must have felt, feeling again that she had suffered just as much as I had in the course of the night. I settled my head into her lap, comfortable. It was the oddest sensation, but now that the adrenaline was wearing off, now that I knew Alice was safe and my most pressing questions were answered, I felt weak, somehow, unable to react or move as I wanted to. I felt ... tired. Very strange. Vampires did not get tired. We did not -- could not -- sleep. We did not need to recharge or recuperate, and yet, I felt strongly that I needed to rest. I felt an almost overwhelming desire to close my eyes and lay still and just _be_.

And so I did. I continued to rest my hand on Alice's hot arm -- was it my imagination that it felt slightly cooler, a baking oven rather than an open flame? -- let my lids droop and close, let my body relax, my breathing slow, and my mind go blank. I felt Alice stroking my forehead, pushing back the tendrils of honey curls. I heard her humming very softly. I recognized the familiar tune, "Blue Eyed Soldier Boy" -- a pretty song from my Civil War days that Alice had discovered years ago on one of her researching frenzies into my past (as, at the time, she had no past of her own) and had adopted as a lullaby of sorts for us. I knew I _had_ had blue eyes as a human, though I couldn't remember their shade anymore, and Alice had been delighted when she had unearthed the popular ballad and found, when she coerced Edward into playing the sheet music, that it was lovely and melancholy.

"Just what a Civil War lullaby ought to be," she'd said. Her beautiful soprano crooning was even more angelic than her speaking, and I soon found myself lost in a sea of thoughts -- they couldn't be dreams, for you had to sleep to dream, didn't you? -- floating through memories and fantasies and musings as though on a cloud. A silver, soft, hot cloud surrounded by gorgeous melody and a sense of safety and love.


	17. Chapter 17

17. WOLF IN SHEEP'S CLOTHING

"YES, ANOTHER MILE TO THE EAST, KEEP COMING. I'LL BE INSIDE THE mine," I could hear Alice's silver bell voice clearly, though she must be forty yards away, outside the dark mine. I wasn't sure who she was talking to, but I could see that the bright halo of sunlight was gone and the cave was as black as pitch in the darkness. I could still see, though, of course. Unlike in the fitful dreams when I had been recovering from the werewolf venom, darkness only changed the colors around me, not the clarity. It was as simple to see the cold stone walls and mossy rock floor of the cave, and the trees and shrubs and stars outside, as if my surroundings were lit by a spotlight.

I stretched my arms and legs experimentally and found, to my relief, that I was able to move quite easily. I was still sore and stiff, but I was able to sit, to crouch, to stand as though nothing worse than a rough wrestling match with Emmett -- okay, maybe five Emmetts -- had occurred. I stretched again as I stood, noticing Alice's bite scar on the inside of my arm as I did so. I fingered it delicately. It didn't hurt at all -- the sting of her venom was long gone -- but it would be permanent. An eternal reminder of Alice. I smiled softly and walked slowly out of the mine, ducking nearly double to exit the tiny opening.

Alice had chosen our hiding spot well. The trees came right up to the abandoned cavern and all but hid it from sight. At least no humans would have stumbled upon us by accident. I doubted that vampires, and therefore werewolves (as I assumed our senses were pretty comparable) would have missed the cave, though, or the unmistakeable scent of vampire leading into it. But if necessary, as Alice had said, she had a much better chance of defending that tiny aperture than she did protecting herself -- and me -- out in the open.

"What are you doing up, Jazz? You should be resting!" Alice chided, rushing forward as she emerged from the trees and caught sight of me.

"I'm rested," I insisted, "What time is it?"

"Eight forty-seven," Alice answered absently, feeling me over as though searching for bruises or broken bones. "Come here," she ordered, gesturing for me to lean over. I obeyed and she held the back of her porcelain hand to my face, checking my temperature again.

"What's the diagnosis, Doc?" I asked, smiling as I swiftly caught her evaluating hand in mine and pressed it to my lips.

"You _feel_ better, warmer, but you're still colder than usual. Go lay down, Jazz. Carlisle will be here any minute and he can look you over."

So she had been talking to Carlisle. Telling him where to find us.

"They made good time," I observed, making no motion to return to the dank mine.

"At least sit down," Alice pleaded, trying to press me to the ground herself. I couldn't help chuckling at her attempt -- of course Alice's strength was no match for mine, even when I wasn't running at one hundred percent.

"Fine," I grinned mischievously, "but you're coming with me."

I sank to the floor in a lightning fast motion, pulling her tiny form with me so that she fell into my lap. I couldn't fight the almost giddy feeling that was taking me over. I was just so happy to be okay, to realize I would get to continue to spend my eternity with Alice, that she would not feel pain or feel compelled to hurt herself in anyway, that I was going to see Carlisle and Esme and Emmett soon.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're up and about," Alice allowed, though she still had that look on her face, as though she were watching for any sign that I was still in pain. I leaned forward, breathing in her wonderful, enticing, electrifying, soothing scent, and pressed my lips to hers. I meant it as a reassurance, but soon I felt a need overcoming me, a compulsion to be close to Alice, to feel her, to taste her, to breathe her in. I began as a soft soothing kiss, but soon it was strong and passionate, powerful. I could tell Alice felt as I did; so relieved and joyous and elated to be together, to be all right, to have the danger and heartbreak a thing of the past, to have our future bright ahead of us. The trees and the mine and the stars evaporated, and all there was in the world -- all there had ever been -- was Alice, was my little angel, warm and happy and stunning in my arms.

"So I guess he's gonna live, then," I heard a gruff voice chortle, breaking the spell of Alice and her perfumed skin and electrically-charged lips. I looked up to see Emmett shaking with subtle laughter -- well, subtle for him, anyway -- hedged by an anxious Esme and a somber Carlisle.

"Oh, Jasper!" Esme cried, rushing to my side and throwing her arms around my neck as she fell to her knees beside me, nearly smothering Alice in the process, "You scared us to death! I don't know what we would have done! Thank goodness you're all right! Thank goodness!"

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, patting my mother on the back apologetically. I was a little uncomfortable at this outpouring of emotions, though they were no more than the feelings I sensed from her, from all of them. Relief, joy, sadness for the near-loss.

"How are you feeling, son?" Carlisle asked, pulling something from his black doctor's bag. Esme reluctantly stepped aside and Alice joined her, giving Carlisle room to assess my condition. Esme put her arm around Alice comfortingly and I saw, with a pang of distress, that Alice needed the support. She must have been masking her fear pretty well. Even the intense black pain I had felt from her was clearly not the extent of it. I clenched my jaw as I realized how very much I had put her through, how much pure agony she had endured. I swore to myself that I would make it up to her, somehow. We'd spend a _month_ in Paris if she wanted. We'd hit every store, boutique, mall, and shop in the continental U.S. _and_ Europe. Somehow I'd find a way to compensate for the torture I had subjected her to. My poor, sweet, devoted, suffering angel.

"I'm a little sore, but I'm fine," I answered absently, still staring at Alice. I knew from experience Carlisle did not appreciate it if I downplayed any aspect of my injuries, no matter how bearable or minor. He insisted it only hindered him from doing his work, and so I usually told him the truth. I knew they were all too stressed now to have much patience for machismo, so I shrugged and continued, "My muscles ache a bit, and I still feel a little ... sluggish, but other than that..." I shrugged again.

Carlisle stuck something in my ear -- a thermometer -- and nodded as the equipment beeped. He tilted my chin back as he examined the scar at my throat that had once been a gaping werewolf bite. He felt up and down the mark. I could see that light of curiosity in his eyes, the excitement of new information, but he didn't ask me any questions. Yet. I was sure he'd want every piece of information Alice and I could give him as soon as Alice and Esme were recovered enough not to rip his throat out for asking.

"Swallow," Carlisle ordered as he felt the glands under my chin. Then he checked the werewolf scar again, scrutinizing every millimeter of the wound. I couldn't be sure if his intense analysis was for my benefit or his own, but either way I was content to comply. "And you don't feel hot or cold or in pain?"

"No, just a little achey, like I said, and kind of ... well, I feel _tired_."

Carlisle, Esme, and Emmett at looked at me in surprise. Vampires did not get tired.

"I think ... I think he was sleeping," Alice muttered softly, almost to herself. Esme looked concerned, Emmett curious, and Carlisle fascinated.

"A vampire that sleeps," Carlisle breathed in delighted wonder. I could see the light of anticipation in his eyes.

"Oh, no, you don't! The inquisition will wait until we get him rested, fed, and back home!" Esme warned, pulling Alice with her to wrap her arm around me again. I grimaced apologetically at Carlisle. I didn't mind answering his questions, but I didn't want Alice to be around when I did it. She'd been through enough; she didn't need to relive the whole ordeal again.

"So, what now?" Emmett asked.

"You can help your brother," Esme ordered. I grinned at Emmett.

"You can carry me back. I'm feeling a little indisposed," I chuckled. Emmett gave a faux growl and positioned himself to strike.

"Don't you dare!" Alice and Esme shrieked in unison. Emmett looked rebellious for a moment, but then he relaxed his posture and stood up, grinning back at me.

"It's no fun when you're half-dead, anyway. It's hardly a fight when you're in top form."

I scowled. When Alice and Esme wouldn't have a stroke, he would see who the "fighter" was in this family.

"He said he was thirsty," Alice told Carlisle quickly, apparently afraid of some testosterone-fueled blow out. Carlisle looked to me questioningly.

"Yeah," I admitted, shrugging. I guess I did need some fuel.

"Do you feel up to hunting?" Esme asked solicitously. Emmett chuckled.

"Aw, it's all right. I can catch you a nice little deer, bro."

I glared at him.

"I'm fine. I can hunt."

"Excellent!" Emmett grinned broadly, "I'm dying to check out the wolves--"

It was hard to tell which reaction caused him to cut off his plans so immediately: Alice's squeak of fear, my hiss of anger, Esme's reproachful gasp, or Carlisle's warning hand on his shoulder.

"Er, I mean, sorry," he finally mumbled.

"No, it's okay," I answered softly. I was trying very hard not to think of my last kill, of my beautiful Kristalene on her first -- and last -- animal hunt, her perfect little wrinkled nose, the pungent odor of the wolf blood spilling from her abdomen across my hands and the leaf-covered dirt... I shook my head hard. Emmett looked at me curiously, both guilty that he had upset me and confused as to exactly how he had done so. I couldn't meet his eyes.

"Deer doesn't sound so bad," Alice breathed, moving to my side and placing her hand upon my arm. I just nodded.

"I smelled some about two miles back to the west," Esme interjected quietly, rubbing my back the way you might with a small child who has scraped his knee. She began leading Alice and me back the way they had come, quicker than a human pace, but leisurely for us.

"Can we at least hunt some of those bison? We don't have those in Forks," I heard Emmett grumble behind me.

"Those are endangered," Carlisle replied, his tone closing the subject. I could feel Emmett pouting. He had come all this way, probably thinking he was about to have the fight of his life, and then no wolves, no bison, nothing to make it worth his while. Despite my tragic memories, I smiled just a little. Sulky or not, I was glad to see Emmett. I was so glad to see them all.

"So how did you get here so fast?" I wondered aloud as we continued through the trees. The very trees Alice had dragged me past, escaping from the wolves; the very trees that had witnessed Kristalene's life and her horrific death... I needed a distraction.

"Well, Edward was able to get us into a private airport in Poland -- Lublin, wasn't it?" Esme turned to ask Carlisle.

"Yes, Lublin-Niedźwiada Airport. Usually it's only for transport planes, but occasionally they will fly private planes in. It was much closer than Minsk."

I nodded. Not that I had any idea where Lublin was, but I did know we were very close to the Polish border. It would make sense to fly into the outskirts of Poland rather than the middle of Belarus, as Alice and I had done.

"And Edward's all right, at home?" I inquired, trying to keep the conversation -- and my distractions -- moving. I knew Edward hated to be left out of a fight almost as much as I did. He had nearly worn the carpet down to the wood panels in his room when Bella had asked him not to fight Victoria's newborn army nearly eight years ago. He never let Bella see, but he was incredibly frustrated that he had to sit on the sidelines and watch the action, the danger, and not participate. Of course, as it had turned out, he probably got the best fight of all...

"He was very worried -- so was Bella -- and he said to send you his sincerest apologies for not coming. But Bella was nearly in hysterics at the thought of Renesmee and Jacob on the Volturi's list, and you and Alice in danger -- the thought of Edward being in danger too, _and_ near the Volturi, would have been too much for her, I think. Carlisle assured them it wasn't necessary for them to come and I _insisted_ they stay home in case we needed them or Renesmee called. They'll be fine." Esme patted my back again reassuringly.

"I called Edward right after I talked to Alice a few moments ago," Carlisle added, "they're both fine. Relieved that you're okay."

"What is that _smell_?" Emmett interrupted, wrinkling his nose. I smelled it too. My stomach lurched and I felt suddenly weak and dizzy, as though I might faint. I sucked in a deep gasp of air through my mouth, trying to steady myself, but I could _taste_ the stench on the wind.

"Oh," Carlisle muttered as he spied the clearing fifty yards away. The same clearing where I had fought the monster that had killed my dream child. The same clearing where that monster had nearly claimed my life. The image from my dreams, my nightmares, flashed through my head; Alice, tiny and alone and unaware, standing in that clearing, the huge, evil wolf grinning atop the boulders, ready to strike--

"What is it, sweetheart?" Esme fluttered over me and then Alice, anxious again. We had both frozen in fear and disgust. Neither of us ever wanted to see this place again.

"Is that -- was that _him_?" Emmett asked, awed. I nodded, one stiff jerk of my head.

"We shouldn't leave him there," Carlisle said softly as he moved toward the clearing. My eyes shot to his face. What was he going to do? Give the monster a good Christian burial? Did he not understand? Did he not grasp what that thing _was_, what it had _done_?

He caught my incredulous glare. "It's the right thing to do, Jasper. You don't have to stay. Esme, take them hunting."

But neither Alice nor I made any move to leave. It was like some sick horrific car accident. I never wanted to see the wretched creature again -- I loathed and detested the very thought of him -- but I wanted to ... see. I wanted to see what had become of him. I wanted to see his blood soaked into the dirt and his entrails and throat feet from his body. I wanted to see his fur matted with that dirt and bracken and his own blood. I wanted to see that he was dead, that he was gone.

Carlisle seemed to understand my torn feelings and he nodded once, compassionate as always. He led the way into the clearing, Emmett following right behind him, and me pacing hesitantly after them. I didn't know if Alice would stay in the trees or not. I listened for her soft footfalls, but I didn't hear anything.

Carlisle and Emmett broke through the trees first and I heard Emmett's shocked intake of breath. I followed behind them slowly. Emmett was blocking my view but I could see Carlisle kneeling down to examine the carcass. With that sense of hate, revulsion, and vengeful curiosity raging inside me, I walked forward, closer to the monster, the soulless _thing_ that had taken my future, viciously massacred an innocent child, and nearly cost me my life and my love.

I stopped in my tracks as I moved passed Emmett and saw the lifeless thing they were both inspecting. I stared blankly, uncomprehending. What was going on? Was this some kind of sick joke? Some kind of cover up on the part of the other wolves? I didn't understand. I didn't get it.

"Who is he?" Emmett asked, looking to me, perplexed. I just continued to stare blankly. What was going on?

"I don't -- what happened?" Alice breathed from behind me, as bewildered as I was, though she, at least, seemed to be able to find her voice. A part of my mind registered that she must have been unable to stay away as well, though I hadn't heard her approach.

There, on the blood-stained dirt of the clearing floor, just where we had left the loathsome wolf monster, lay a bloodied, mangled, naked man. His hair was dark and dirty, matted with blood and bracken and filth. His throat was ripped out, as were his intestines. He was laying twisted on the ground, his knees in the dirt but his torso turned to the side toward us. His head was tilted at an odd angle, his right cheek and grizzled beard in the pool of dried blood that had seeped around him, his hollow, dead eyes staring unseeingly into the forest, dark and utterly ... human.

"What is this?" I snarled, glaring at Carlisle and Emmett. Somewhere I knew it was ridiculous to blame them, but I was livid. What had happened to that cruel, damnable beast that had cost me so much -- so much pain, so much loss? Where had he gone? I scanned the surrounding clearing wildly, looking to the trees, the tops of the rocks. Had those damned werwolves moved his body? Deprived me of the satisfaction of gloating over his cold, mutilated corpse? I clenched my fists in fury.

"That -- that must be him," Carlisle said softly, awed and placating at the same time, "That must be what happens when they die."

"Weird," Emmett murmured. I shook my head.

"That can't be him," I asserted. This was just some poor human guy, dead in the dirt. He looked frail and pitiful -- I couldn't reconcile the image before me with that of the vicious snapping wolf thrashing in my arms.

"It sure smells like something nasty," Emmett disagreed.

"No," I said stubbornly, but he was right. That man did not _smell_ human. He smelled just as the werewolf had -- like rancid meat and dirt, and now blood. Not enticing, irresistible, throat-burning blood, the way a human's blood would smell. It was actually revolting. It turned my stomach. I could even smell the venom mixed in it.

"That ... was _him_?" Alice breathed, her voice a mixture of disgust and disbelief.

"It must be," Carlisle answered, walking around the body like a CSI investigator, "You said Jasper ripped out his bowels, and you ripped out his throat..." He indicated the wounds on the man, just were the wolf's wounds would have been.

"Weird," Emmett repeated.

I just stared down at the body, unable -- or unwilling -- to make sense of it. It must be the wolf -- he smelled just the same and his wounds were identical. But somehow he seemed ... not so _evil_ in this human form. He seemed less unforgivable. And that enraged me. He didn't deserve this less austere form, the innocent trappings of a human facade. It wasn't fair. It wasn't _justice_. The world should see him for the fiend he had been; he shouldn't be allowed to revert to this inoffensive shell. He was a monster, a demon. A wolf in sheep's clothing. A wolf in human skin.

"Esme, why don't you take Alice and Jasper into the woods. Jazz, you need to hunt. You need all the strength you can get." Carlisle nodded to Esme, his tone turning persuasive when I glared defiantly at him.

"Come on, baby," Alice said after a moment, pulling herself away from the awful sight and tugging lightly on my arm. I didn't move. It just didn't feel right, somehow. It just wasn't right to bury this creature as though he were a man, as though he deserved our respect. He had already been granted far too much leniency, escaped far too much justice. His death had been quick and painless, he had assumed this sympathetic form, and now he was going to be buried like a lost comrade? It was too much!

I wanted to _do_ something to him, something awful, but I couldn't think what to do. I wanted to ask Carlisle to mutter a curse over his corpse or something, ask him to let me rip off his arms and legs and go feed the pieces to that pack of wolves -- if they would touch his stinking carcass -- but I knew he'd never allow it. Really, I wasn't sure it was in me to do it. I could certainly be vengeful, but I didn't know if I could hate enough to be that sick and sadistic. I clenched my jaw and fists tightly, warring with myself.

"Jasper," Alice whispered, worried, pleading. I relaxed. Alice would never look at me the same way if I put into action the sick retributions that were flashing through my head now. And I would not risk that for anything; certainly not for that vile, disgusting mongrel lying pale and desecrated in the dirt. I resisted the urge to spit at the corpse, and nodded once, turning to follow Alice and the openly relieved Esme into the forest. I could hear Emmett beginning to dig as I walked away -- with his hands, no doubt; much stronger than any shovel. I spared one last glance over my shoulder, wishing again that I could run and sweep up the cadaver, ripping it to shreds as I ran away with it into the woods. I peered over just in time to see Carlisle shifting the body, preparing to move it. As he lifted the creature's limp form, the vacant face turned to stare emptily directly toward me, and something clicked. I froze in my tracks, staring at the gray, lifeless, face. Alice was pulled back as her arm, linked in mine, was abruptly halted. She turned, anxious again, to look at me.

"What is it?"

"It's ... _him_," I whispered.

"I ... I know, I thought you realized --"

"No, Alice, it's _him_. Look." I nodded with my head toward the man's face, still fully in our view. Carlisle had frozen in concern, too, as soon as I had spoken. Alice looked for a moment, confused. Then she gasped, her porcelain hand flying to her mouth.

"In the inn, the man," she breathed, her body tensing and her pitch rising.

"What man?" Esme asked, apparently worried that we were both experiencing post traumatic stress or something.

"When we first arrived at the inn in Viselkeizedevia, there was a man. He glared at us, then left in a huff. He seemed angry. I just assumed he had better sense than the rest..." It was all making sense now. That dirty, mangy smell, just like the wolf. That anger and loathing in his eyes -- of course he knew what we were. No werewolf would have survived this long with the Volturi always on the lookout if he weren't very skilled at evading our kind. He probably _hated_ our kind, thanks to the Volturi. How many of his kind had they killed? Hunted down like dogs, slaughtered simply for being? Dozens? Hundreds? He was probably ecstatic at the thought of being able to destroy some of us, extract his own kind of vengeance.

Pain coursed through me again as I realized Kristalene had been a casualty of war, been caught in the crossfire. Surely the wolf knew the girl was no threat to him or any of his brethren; she was a civilian, a child. What damage could she do? But me... I clenched my jaw so tightly I thought I might crush my glittering teeth into dust. It would be clear to anyone with more than human senses that I was a soldier, a fighter. For all the wolf knew I was the scout of a Volturi hunting party, come to eradicate his pack. He had killed the angel child because of me.

Maybe he would have killed her anyway -- purely out of retribution or vengeance -- even if I had never come to this place, I thought. But this was poor consolation. So Kristalene had been doomed to die that horrific death with or without my presence? It only made the pain intensify. At least I had avenged her, I told myself, at least the monster had paid for what he had done. If she would have died either way, at least my presence here afforded her that justice. I tried to ease my conscience, but I wasn't fairing very well.

"He knew," Alice whispered, "he knew what we were, right away. And Kristalene --"

I wrapped my arm around her slender shoulders as a tearless sob shook her body. I closed my eyes -- I had to get that monster's face out of my head -- but all I saw behind my lids was Kristalene. Sweet, innocent, smiling and beautiful, entranced in our stories and our way of life, so good already, so desperate to be better. I hunched a little, feeling that I might crumple to the ground with the weight of my agony.

Esme wrapped her arms around the two of us gently, trying to assuage our pain. She meant well, but how could she know how we felt? She had never even met the angel child I had hoped to call my own one day.

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. Another heart-rending, awful thought that pressed me down further with the weight of the pain. What of Kristalene's body? I didn't know why it hadn't occurred to me before now, but now it was all I could think about. I felt sick that I had left the task so long. She was lying there, alone, in the dark woods that must have been so terrifying to her, alone in the darkness in the dirt where she had met her death face to face, where she had writhed in agony, where she had drawn her last gasping breaths. How could we have left her there all this time? I literally doubled over with nausea. I didn't think vampires could be sick, but I felt like my stomach was lurching up my throat, desperate to escape.

"Oh, Jasper -- Carlisle!" Esme called in a panic.

"What is it, son? Are you in pain again?" Carlisle was at my side in a thirty-eighth of a second, his hand on my head, trying to check the dilation of my pupils.

"Kristalene--" I choked. I actually had to sit on the dirt to keep from falling. I tried to suck in deep gasps of air to keep from retching, but they seemed to catch in my throat and cause me to choke further.

"I -- I know," Esme tried to console me, misunderstanding my sudden reaction. She looked helplessly to Carlisle. I tried to shake my head. They didn't understand. I couldn't explain. I looked pleadingly at Alice, hoping she would know, as she so often did, what I thinking. Where the hell was Edward when I needed him?

I saw Alice's face pale even further and her dainty hands clench into fists. She had already been crouched at my side in concern, but now she seemed to struggle with her balance as well. She swallowed three or four times convulsively.

"Carlisle -- do something!" Esme stammered, truly concerned about us now. "What's wrong with them? Are they okay?"

"We never -- Kristalene -- she's still--" Alice gasped, horrified as well. It should make me feel slightly better that she had not thought of the child's body until now either -- panicked about me and both our safety as she had been -- but I felt only guilt and pain. Every second I sat here spluttering like a madman was another second the child's body lay alone in the dark and the dirt. With great effort I forced myself to rise, pulling Alice with me.

"Which way was it?" I asked her through shallow gasps. She pointed toward the southeast vaguely. She was just as distracted as I had been at the time -- I didn't know why I expected her to remember the location any better than I did. We would have to smell our way. The thought turned my stomach again, threatening to crush me to the ground with the weight of the pain.

Without a second glance at Esme, Carlisle, Emmett, or the mutilated monster, I grabbed Alice's hand and raced off into the woods. We had to do something for the girl. Ugh! How long had she lain there now? One day? Two? I swallowed the bile that built up in my throat and raced on, forcing myself to sniff the air for the scent of vampire, werewolf venom, and wolf blood. I was vaguely aware that we were being followed, but I didn't waste much concern on the fact.

Finally I smelled that familiar sickly smell of dirt and dog, the sweet scent of vampire, and the faded scent of the blood, beginning to turn. I clenched my teeth together and tried to mentally prepare myself for the sight I was going to see.

I slowed to a walk, Alice hesitating behind me. Maybe I should make her go back to Carlisle and Esme, spare her the horror of reliving this tragedy. I should, but I honestly didn't think I could face the child's body on my own. I hoped Alice would forgive me this selfishness.

I walked forward, step by step, faintly recognizing the trees and the rocks around the spot. And then we were there. I expected pain, retching, crumbling to the floor as my legs gave out, choking, even sobs. But what I felt was ... nothing. I was numb. My mind refused to register the sight that would make my body useless, the knowledge that would force me into a ball on the ground, cowering in pain. I stared at the mangled body, the bloody stomach and leg, the hands lying limply at her sides, dark with blood, the thick, dark hair tangled behind her head. I looked at her exquisite face, so beautiful still. Her eyes were dark now, blank and empty. They made her face wrong. She was just a shell, now, of the creature she had been. There was no light to her anymore, no sparkle of warmth and curiosity and goodness. She was just a beautiful, pale, shell. I continued to stare, uncomprehending, unfeeling.

"Oh Jasper, Alice," I heard Esme breath sorrowfully from somewhere behind us.

"I'm so sorry," Carlisle added, resting his hand on my shoulder.

Neither Alice nor I responded in any way. We both stood frozen, staring at the empty angel child.

It was the sound of earth being scratched away that finally broke into my nothingness. Someone was digging. Digging a grave. I turned quickly to whomever it was.

"No," I said roughly, to Carlisle I saw now. Emmett must have stayed in the clearing to finish the grave for the wolf. Carlisle looked at me apprehensively. I wondered fleetingly whether he was fearing some Rhett Butler style-refusal to bury the child, not wanting her to be alone in the dark. I had to admit, that thought was revolting, but it wasn't why I stopped him.

"She should be buried at her church, with her family," I murmured. Carlisle looked surprised, but he nodded. "We should take her to Anya," I said to Alice, trying to keep my voice from breaking. How could we tell Anya that her sister, a part of her soul, was dead now? Anya wasn't supposed to live to see her sister die. Her sister was supposed to be immortal.

"We should clean her up first," Alice whispered, trying, as I did, to keep the catch from her voice. I nodded and stepped forward toward the angel child. Trying not to look at her lifeless eyes, I scooped her up in my arms and began walking with her toward the very stream we had sat by after her first hunt, watching the bison and relaying the story of mine and Alice's lives.

"Esme, did you bring any clothes with you?" I asked without turning. I could hear Esme following us, and I doubted Alice's clothes would fit the girl.

"Yes," Esme answered, the concern still apparent in her voice, "my bag is back with Emmett, though."

With a whoosh of air she took off back the way we had come. I could still hear Carlisle behind us, could feel his worry and sympathetic pain for our loss. He didn't speak, but kept pace fifteen feet behind us.

Finally we reached the stream. The bison were there again, sleeping a hundred yards away. I didn't care much if I disturbed them this time. I lay Kristalene down gently on the soft dirt bank. I took my bloodied sweater from her abdomen, very carefully averting my eyes from the wound, and stepped into the water to wet it. Alice carefully pulled the bloodied homespun blue dress over the girl's head and arms, Carlisle lifting her body helpfully. I tried to rinse the blood from the sweater, then returned to the child with the dripping garment.

"Do you want me to--" Carlisle began, but I shook my head. This was the least I could do for her, for the child I had hoped to make my own and share the next thousand years of my life with. How unforgivably selfish it would be to make someone else do this, to push this last service onto another simply because it would torture me. The numbness overcame me again and I worked mechanically over her, detached. I washed away the blood and venom from the gaping stomach wound, returning to the stream three times to rinse out the sweater. I washed her leg and hands, brushed the smudges of blood from her perfect, seraphic face. Alice worked pulling her fingers through the child's thick, obsidian hair, trying to comb through the tangles and remove the dirt and leaves and twigs.

Esme arrived moments later carrying a sturdy-looking backpack. Near the top lay a dark blue button-down shirt -- Emmett's, a part of my mind noted -- that she handed silently to me. She rummaged a little deeper until she found a simple white cotton dress. She handed this to Alice, watching us both with a worried and empathically pained expression. I threw on the shirt -- it would startle Anya less if I appeared as _normal_ as possible -- and lifted the child again as Alice pulled the dress onto her now blood-free body. Luckily the cotton was thick and long, so the wounds were not visible through it. I looked over the beautiful girl on the mossy bank carefully, making sure there was nothing more we could do to spare Anya. She looked almost hauntingly lovely now -- except for those eyes. With a moment's hesitation -- closing her eyes seemed so final, seemed to make all of this so irrefutably real -- I slid my hand over her face and closed her lids for the last time. I felt some of the numbness draining away, and I tried desperately to cling to it. I couldn't fall apart yet. Not yet. I hadn't done all I could for the child yet. After she was safely in Anya's keeping, after she was laid to rest in the village where she had lived and loved and died, _then_ I could afford to feel. Then I could afford to fall.


	18. Chapter 18

18. SLEEP

I WALKED WITH KRISTALENE THROUGH THE PRIMORDIAL FOREST, PAST

the ancient oaks that had witnessed so many lives and deaths and tragedies. Did the passing of one so fine, one so good, mean anything to them? Did they even notice another life more or less? Or did they just watch, uncaring, as the world turned and man played out his petty scenes on the world's stage? It seemed incomprehensible that this angel could have died for nothing, that her existence would have made no lingering mark upon the world. It just couldn't be possible.

We neared Viselkeizedevia, but rather than heading through the streets of town I followed the outskirts of the forest, staying to the trees. I wasn't sure exactly where Kristalene's house lay, but I headed in the direction she had pointed that first night (was it possible that it was the _only_ night? It seemed like years we had known her -- was it really so meager a span of time?), relying on my sense of smell to locate the exact abode.

In the end it wasn't difficult. The forest opened right up onto the back of the cottage, as Kristalene had described it, and her scent was strong here. She came and went this way often. There was a light on inside the house, a dim, flickering light, like that of a kerosene lamp. Without a physical pause, though I hesitated mentally for the briefest breadth of a second to collect myself, I strode to the thick wooden back door of the ancient cottage with Kristalene in my arms. I forced myself to take one fleeting look at her, to make sure she appeared as undamaged as possible. Something tugged at my chest, my stomach. The numbness was trying to melt away, but I couldn't let it. I grasped at it desperately, trying to keep it in place. Soon I could afford to allow it to dissipate, but not yet. Not yet.

The child's appearance was much less tortuous now. Her wounds were all but invisible, her body seemed still and restful, her face -- without those dark staring eyes -- seemed almost peaceful, almost like she could be sleeping here in my arms. Alice knocked softly on the door and we could hear a chair grating across the wooden floor, being pushed out from the table. Soft human steps neared the door, soft human breathing and the soft human heartbeat approached. I wondered if Anya's blood would tempt me or if it could be at all similar to Kristalene's scent and spare me any further guilt.

Alice and I stood frozen in apprehension as the heavy oaken door creaked open and a kind, lovely face appeared behind it. I stared at the woman, my chest tightening as though the icy steel vise from my venom nightmares were squeezing the breath from my body again. She looked so like Kristalene! When they were younger they must have looked like twins. Even at thirty-something Anya was comely, her round face and long, thick, dark hair almost identical to Kristalene's, her soft brown eyes fringed with the same thick lashes and lavender lids.

She looked at us, surprised at first, as the sight of two pale, beautiful strangers on her doorstep sunk in. Then she saw what I held in my arms, and her face drained of color, her hand flying to her throat and her knees trembling.

"Anya?" I asked softly, trying to be as unfrightening as possible. She didn't answer, didn't move her eyes from her sister. She reached her hand out, hesitantly, to touch Kristalene's cheek. What she hoped to learn by this I wasn't sure -- it wasn't as if her body would be any colder or harder than it had been when she was alive.

"Could we bring her inside?" Alice breathed, trying to be as consoling as possible. Anya raised her eyes to Alice's and nodded once, stepping aside to let us in. Part of my mind noted that Carlisle and Esme must have stayed in the woods, for which I was grateful. Two vampires carrying your dead sister's body was certainly enough for any human, even one as tolerant and brave as Anya.

With a quick glance around the room I spied a neatly made bed in a corner of the cottage. It looked as though it were seldom used, and Kristalene's scent was strong on it. I carried her over to it and laid her down gently. I knelt by her side and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. I could almost convince myself that she was just sleeping, just resting. Almost. I grabbed at the numbness again, though some of it slipped through my fingers, the vise tightening at its escape.

"My name's Alice and this is Jasper," Alice spoke to the devastated woman who stood staring, as I did, at the beautiful angel child on the bed, "Did Kristalene tell you about us?"

There was no response for a moment, and I wondered if Anya spoke English. Surely she would not have had much use for it here, and it would not be as easy for her to learn another language as it would have been for Kristalene's spacious vampire mind. Just as I was about to try to explain to her in Russian, though, she nodded her head, looking forlornly at Alice.

"Yes, she told me she met two of her kind," Anya replied, her words heavy with pain and a thick Russian accent. "She was -- she was very excited."

She fell to her knees beside her sister, beside me, in a sudden devastated movement, her head in her arms upon the bed, her body shaking with sobs. Her scent swirled around me, and my throat burned, but, though I was thirsty, I felt no desire at all to attack her. Not even my instincts told me to kill. Nothing in me desired her blood; I was just too numb.

"I'm so sorry," I said gruffly, wanting to put my arm around her but fearing that I might frighten her, might make this horrific night worse for her. Anya just sobbed on, her body heaving with the force of her pain, her tears staining the quilt and splashing onto her dress and the wooden floor. I rose and went to stand with Alice, five feet from the grieving woman. Her pain was so intense, it was nearly impossible to remain numb. It took everything I had not to throw myself on the floor beside her and wail and lament in torment as well. I wondered whether we should leave, leave Anya to mourn in private, but I was sure she'd want to know what had happened, and this would be her only chance. I knew I would never be able to return to this place.

"Oh, _moi lebouth, moi Kristalene_," Anya cried over and over again. "_Moi ahnyuel_." My dead heart was breaking. _My love, my Kristalene, my angel_. I couldn't take it anymore. Anya might deserve an explanation, but I couldn't bear to witness her pain any longer. I was tensing to run out of the house when Alice grabbed my arm.

"No," she whispered, so softly Anya could not hear her, "She'll want to know soon. Another two minutes or so. We owe Kristalene that. She'd want her to know."

I slumped. Of course I owed her that. At _least_ that. I owed her so much more than I could ever give her now. Just as Renesmee had made us all realize that our lives had not quite been complete, had not quite been full, so Kristalene had shown me there was more that I could have, more that I could be. Alice was all I needed to survive, even to be happy, but Kristalene had made me think I could have more. I could have a family of my own. I could help someone good and kind and pure and love her with all my heart. I could be so much more than a lover or a son or a brother, more than an uncle or a lieutenant. I could be ... I could be a father.

I bowed my head in guilt and sorrow for an immeasurable amount of time -- it seemed far longer than two minutes. Finally I heard Anya's sobs lessen, heard her shift against the bed. Another few moments and I could feel her determination to collect herself, to try to address us. I forced myself to look up, to meet her gaze.

Her eyes were red and wet, her face and clothes tearstained as she looked at us, took a deep, steadying breath, and beseeched,

"What happened to her?"

I could feel the need to know burning inside her, the _anger_ at whatever had taken her sister. I knew, in that moment, that even if God Himself had come down and plucked the child from Earth, Anya would have been furious with Him, would not have forgiven Him.

Alice knelt beside the devastated human woman and explained, in a soft, soothing voice, about Kristalene's hunt and the man in the inn who was really a werewolf. She hesitated for a moment, and I guessed she was deciding whether or not to tell Anya about the Volturi and the werewolves' vendetta. I bit my lip, hoping she would keep that to herself. For selfish reasons I didn't want anyone else knowing that the child's death had been my fault -- the werewolves hated vampires, hated more than anything the capable fighters, those that could hunt them down and extract the Volturi's revenge. The wolf knew Kristalene was no such fighter, was no threat to him whatsoever, but he had killed her anyway. Perhaps in part just for his own sick vengeance. But I knew he had also done it to lure me out of hiding, to provoke me to fight. I didn't think I could bear Anya's accusing glare, knowing her sister had died ... for me.

Aside from the emotional reasons to keep the Volturi's part in this a secret, there were also the practical ones. I knew_ I _didn't deserve the concealment, but for Anya's sake I hoped Alice would omit the details. Although Kristalene was gone and the Volturi could impart no "justice" upon her for her "indiscretions," they may still decide to silence the villagers who knew their secret. The less Anya and Viselkeizedevia knew about our world, the safer they'd be.

"Why would he kill my sister?" Anya asked, as Alice hesitated. She seemed at a loss for words. I moved quickly to Anya's side, sinking down beside her again.

"Because he was evil," I stated simply. It was true. He may have had additional reasons for slaughtering an innocent child, but that was the underlying factor. Anya's fragile composure crumbled at that, and her eyes filled with fresh tears. She looked inconsolably at her sister again, lying still and empty on the bed.

"He killed her for no reason? He took her life just because he could?" she choked. My resolve wavered. The guilt was overpowering me. I couldn't keep the truth from her -- it was too selfish.

"No, he--"

"He was a monster." Alice cut in, laying a restraining hand on my arm. She flashed me a warning look. She must have seen the pain in my eyes, the unfathomable guilt. She grasped my hand tightly and squeezed. "No," she whispered without moving her lips, too softly for Anya to hear.

I bowed my head. She was right. Of course she was. Which was more selfish? To alleviate the guilt I felt by relaying the truth to Anya, putting her and her entire village -- everyone that Kristalene loved -- in danger to ease my own conscience? Or to suffer that guilt and allow Anya to think I had no part in her sister's death, to keep a town-full of innocent humans safe? Of course I would endure the guilt. I must. What sort of monster would _I_ be if I unburdened my mind at the cost of so many lives? I would suffer this. I deserved to suffer much worse.

"Do -- do you think they come here often?" Anya asked after another moment's soft sobbing.

"I don't know," Alice answered, puzzled. She frowned.

"I always wondered," Anya hesitated, finally pulling her eyes from the wooden floor to Alice and then to me, "about the wolf attacks. The rest of the town seemed very sure it was wolves, but I have never in all my years seen or heard of any wolves in these woods who were big enough or vicious enough or hungry enough to attack humans. And always at night ... and always at the full moon -- the wolves here prey mostly on the herds and the wisent -- when the herders appear they run away... " She trailed off, deep in thought.

"Always at the full moon?" I demanded, snapping to attention. I exchanged wary glances with Alice.

"Yes. There were some rumors -- there was an old woman in our village when I was a child. She would tell stories of men that changed into wolves at the full moon and would carry off a full grown man to change him or devour him. I was always afraid on the full moon. Kristalene," she choked a little, "Kristalene would always sing to me on those nights and let me sleep in her bed..."

I swallowed, clinging desperately to the last shred of numbness inside of me.

"It might have been," Alice whispered, apparently unable to find her own voice. A thought occurred to me and I gasped,

"_Satehna_."

"What?" Alice and Anya inquired together, confused but not really interested.

"Maybe that's why _Satehna_, the one that changed Kristalene, maybe that's why she did it. Why she didn't finish feeding. I don't know anything that would scare off a newborn vampire in the middle of a ..." I stopped, not knowing how to phrase it. I had been going to say "kill," but I didn't think I could bear anymore heartbreak in the room.

"A werewolf." Alice breathed.

"You think a werewolf scared her away?" Anya asked, and I felt a strange mingling of emotions from her. Could it be she was feeling a ... a gratefulness to the wolf for sparing her sister's life so many years ago, for at least allotting her these twenty-odd years?

"Scared her away, or ... or bit her," I managed.

Perhaps this town was not quite so secluded as I had thought. It had been home to a vampire, had been visited by other vampires, and was apparently a pit stop on the werewolf tour of Belarus. Who knew how long wolves had been coming through here, assessing the meal options, waiting for the full moon, then attacking at will. Dragging off humans and vampires alike, as their mood dictated. Ugh! This was like some little cursed village from the very gypsy novels I had envisioned when first laying eyes upon this town -- plagued by demons of the world of darkness an myth.

I wondered what -- if anything -- we should do. I knew Carlisle wouldn't want to leave the village without trying to help. And we owed it to Kristalene to make the people she loved and protected as safe as we could make them. But I didn't know quite how to do it. The thought of waiting around here or even returning at the next full moon sent my stomach lurching and the icy vise crushing around my ribs. I could not come back here. It was all I could do to remain here now, for Anya's sake. Then what?

"We'll talk to Carlisle," Alice breathed softly. I thought Anya could hear her voice, but I doubted she'd be able to make out the words. I nodded, not knowing what I could say. Would Carlisle return, maybe with Emmett and Rosalie? Could we ask them to put themselves in danger that way? Would we need to ask?

I felt the desperate urge to be out of this dwelling; a _need_ to be gone, to be _doing_ something. I wanted to talk to Carlisle, I wanted to follow the wolves' path, I wanted -- _needed_ -- to do _something_. I could not sit here anymore, wallowing, useless, pitiful. I _had_ to go. Now.

I rose abruptly -- a movement too fast to be human -- and headed for the door.

"Jasper?" Alice asked, alarmed.

"I can't stay," I muttered, pushing the door, "Please explain."

I hoped Alice understood. I didn't want to be rude or heartless, not to the closest thing to Kristalene that was left in this world, but I needed to be on the move. I needed to be _helping_ the child somehow, to be doing whatever was left that I could do. Anya did not need me. My presence did her no further good. I hoped Alice understood that I wanted her to stay behind, to comfort the woman. She was much more soothing than I was, anyhow.

I felt Alice's bewilderment and worry as I pushed the door closed behind me, perhaps with a little too much force, and marched briskly into the trees. I could smell Carlisle and Esme close by. I found them in an eighth of a second, surprise and apprehension plain on their loving faces.

"Are you all right, Jasper?" Esme asked, coming to my side at once, maternal anxiety filling my senses, "Is Anya --"

"She's there." I stated flatly. Again, I didn't want to be rude to the only mother I could really remember, the most caring creature I had ever known, but I just couldn't find the patience in me to slow down and adhere to conventions, to be polite. Esme didn't seem offended, just more worried. She knew this wasn't like me. I took a deep breath, trying to make myself wait, make myself be still. My muscles -- so numb with pain just minutes earlier -- seemed trying to wrench themselves from my skin, trying to fly from this spot, desperate to move. My words took much effort.

"Maybe," I forced myself to speak slowly. I felt Carlisle and Esme's tension increase, "Maybe you should go help Alice, Esme. You are very ... comforting."

"Do -- do you think it's a good idea?" she asked, looking from me to Carlisle and back again. I nodded once. _Run!_ My body was screaming at me. _Fly!_ "Of course, dear. Of course."

My mother patted my arm and dashed out of the treeline and across the empty yard toward the house. A part of my mind registered the sound of her soft knocking on the heavy wooden door. I turned to Carlisle. He was watching me patiently, expectantly, trying to mask his concern. I took another deep breath.

"Can we walk?" I asked. I felt like I had ingested fifteen cups of coffee. I couldn't stand here calmly -- well, even as "calm" as I was -- another moment. I had to move.

"Of course," Carlisle nodded. We began walking through the woods at a very brisk pace. Vampire speed-walking.

"I think," I began, still not knowing exactly what I planned to do. My thoughts were skipping around, from one plan to another, from one thought or idea or theory to the next in a fashion that would have made Edward sick. "I think that the werewolves," I couldn't help the venomous spitting of the word, "come here often. When we first arrived, Kristalene--" I swallowed, my breath catching. _Numb!_ I thought to myself. _A soldier. A robot. Be numb!_

"Yes," Carlisle encouraged, trying, as always, to be compassionate without being patronizing. It was a difficult line to tread, but somehow Carlisle always managed it.

"_She_ told us that there were many wolf attacks throughout the years, that sometimes the wolves would even attack people, full grown men." I felt him tense and his emotions became wary, understanding, "and just now, Anya said there have always been rumors about men that became wolves, and that all the attacks were at night, and always under the full moon."

"Incredible," Carlisle breathed, but his tone was one of disgust.

"Do you think -- do you think it's possible this town is some sort of _hunting ground_? That they come here every few months or every few years to feed?"

"I'm afraid it's very possible. In the old days many such villages were plagued by werewolves. The stories came from somewhere, after all. Before the Volturi decimated their population, many remote towns in Europe were visited every few years, sometimes every month, by one or even packs of werewolves. They travel alone, as a rule, as we do, but occasionally they would band together for convenience. It was easier to hunt together than to try to fight over territory. Three or four wolves hitting a village once a year was more ... _profitable_ than one wolf hitting the same village every month. Less resistance, more time for the ... food supply to replenish. They would attack towns in cycles..." He trailed off, realizing his scientific and historical assessment of the situation was making me nauseous.

"So what can we do? Is there a way to track them in their human form?"

Carlisle seemed uneasy. He hesitated.

"If you're worried about your safety I'll go alone. Just tell me what you can--"

"It's not that," Carlisle bit his lip, apparently bracing himself for relaying some unpleasant information, "It's -- it's a difficult predicament. These people should certainly be protected, saved if possible, but..."

"But what?" What was he getting at? He didn't want to help me? That seemed very unlike Carlisle. He was always willing to sacrifice himself to protect others less capable. Why would he balk at the danger now?

"As reprehensible as the creature was who attacked you, they are not all that way. And they are very nearly extinct. The Volturi have almost wiped them out. Most of them have no choice about what they do, what they became. And the ones who do, well, can you blame them for hating us? The Volturi have systematically hunted down and brutally murdered hundreds of werewolves, hundreds of their friends and mates and brothers. Just as you hate _them_, can't you see why they would hate _us_?"

I actually stopped moving. I froze mid-step under the gnarled, dark branches, an ice sculpture nearly colorless with shock and incredulous fury. Carlisle felt remorse, but it was for hurting me, not for what he had said. He _believed_ what he had said. He meant it.

"You --" I tried to unclench my teeth, "You. Don't. Want. To. Hunt. Them?"

"I'm not sure," he said softly, "As I said, it's a difficult situation. The people should not be harmed, but do we hunt other vampires? They prey on humans as well."

"But not on _vampires_! Not on _innocents_!" I knew, even as I roared the words, that I was being irrational. Of course vampires killed each other. It happened every day. Of course they hunted innocent humans -- most humans _were_ innocent_ -- _hunted children, even. Most vampires -- and I had certainly been among them -- were no more righteous than these beasts, no more noble or moral than those monsters I so loathed, so hated with every fiber of my being. We were not so different. Both mythical creatures of the night, both ruled by our hungers, both desolate, soulless chunks of dead rock orbiting a bright and vivacious world, lit only by reflections, casting no brightness of good of our own.

As I had just once before, I doubled over, feeling that I may be sick. I fell to my knees on the loam, clutching my stomach, my face near the dirt. I could smell the soil and leaves and decaying brush. I breathed in deep gasps of air, trying to distract myself with the scent, trying to pick out each smell.

Of course Carlisle was with me, kneeling beside me and stroking my back, murmuring words of comfort into my ear. It was difficult to concentrate on what he said, but I grasped at anything I could to keep my mind from the realization it had stumbled upon.

"I know your past is ... different than the rest of ours," Carlisle was saying, "but it wouldn't be justice, son, it would be vengeance. You are better than that. You have left that behind you. That world of hate and death and war, you've left that. That's not who you are."

I finally gave up and put my hands to my face, my knees and elbows in the dirt. I was glad no one else was here to see this. Even Alice would have been bewildered. I felt the tearless sobs rack my body. All the loss, all the pain, all the fury and frustration and hate and loss were washing through me, overwhelming me. It was as though my body was making up for the moments of numbness, throwing the emotions back at me ten fold. I had never felt this ... this _helpless_ before, not in all my existence. I had never had this reaction to _anything_, and I was surprised that I was capable of it.

Carlisle just let me sit there, overcome, stroking my back and muttering soothing words into my ear. Part of me wished for Esme, like a sick child wishing for his mother. Part of me wished for Alice, who understood me so completely, she'd know what to say to me, know just how to console me. But in the end I was glad it was Carlisle. He would protect my secret as well as Alice, and I didn't want Alice to see me like this. She knew I wasn't the "rock" I pretended to be, but I still liked the thought that she knew she could count on me, knew I was a cool head in perilous situations. She'd still love me, of course, but I wanted that image she held of me to remain intact. As far as she would know, I had bolted from the house and set off to hunt the wolves with fearless determination.

And I was determined. And I was not afraid. But Carlisle was right. There was no clear-cut solution to this problem. The wolf who had actually killed the innocent was dead. The others, though I was sure they were far from blameless, had done nothing to me. As far as I knew, their only crime was that they _were_. They had not chosen to be werewolves, they did not choose to feed on humans. Just like the hundreds of vampires in this world, they did not know or care that there was another way. It was even possible that for them there _was_ no other way. Who knew? They certainly had reason to hate our kind, and I found that, despite the wrenching in the pit of my stomach, my rational side was beginning to agree with Carlisle. At least to see his point of view.

I breathed slower now, deep, heavy breaths that filled my lungs and nostrils with the scent of the dirt and leaves and damp bark. I tried to compose myself. I dug my long fingers into the soil, grasping two fistfuls of loam with the effort to calm myself.

"I can't--" I began. I held my breath a second, trying to speak reasonably, "I can't allow Anya to be in danger that way. She's all that's left. I owe Kristalene that. I can't allow it..."

Carlisle seemed thoughtful. I couldn't look him in the eye yet. I kept my eyes shut tightly, concentrating on my breathing.

"Perhaps," he said slowly, not quite sure he wanted to give me this option, "we could tell the Volturi. They would certainly send out a hunting party, and they would be far more informed and skilled at the tracking than we would be. They would be much quicker and more effective."

I had frozen again at the name of the vampires who had created this war in the first place. If not for them, would Kristalene still be alive? Still be untouched? It seemed almost unfathomable that I had once admired the Volturi, the "keepers of the peace;" that I had once believed their existence essential to our way of life. Keepers of the peace. Ha. It seemed a cruel joke now.

"We'd have to get you and Alice out of here first, of course," Carlisle continued, either unaware of or politely ignoring my stoney posture.

"What about the villagers?" I whispered. As much as I hated the Volturi, Carlisle might be right. This was the Guard's job, after all. One of their many missions. They would certainly be better at it than I would be. But would they be any less dangerous than the wolves? Would we just be trading one scourge for another?

"I could ask Aro to be ... discreet. To refrain from hunting here," Carlisle answered. "I think he would agree. He still wishes to be in our good graces." A new thought seemed to occur to him, "Actually, this might get us into _their_ good graces. A show of 'good faith,' as it were. It could only help with Renesmee."

I finally squared my shoulders, my torso straight, though I remained on my knees, and looked at him, trying to gauge how strongly he believed Aro would agree.

"What about Aro, though?" I asked. After all, wasn't the Volturi's presence the very thing Alice and I had been trying to avoid? The entire reason I was prepared to wait forty or fifty years for the child I so wanted? If he read the villager's thoughts -- or perhaps even the werewolves, if that were possible; I wasn't sure if true werewolves had linked pack minds as the Quilieute wolves did -- he would know what Kristalene had done. Would he decide that promise or no promise the town needed to be silenced?

"What about Aro?" Carlisle repeated, confused.

"Kristalene --" it was still so hard to say her name. An icy knife pierced my chest every time I thought it, "never _told_ the people she was a vampire, but they knew she wasn't human. And she did tell her sister. If Aro finds out..."

I could feel the expression of pure pleading and pain on my face. I could _not_ be the cause of something that would have hurt Kristalene. I _could_ not be responsible for the death of those she loved. I couldn't.

Carlisle patted me reassuringly, understanding now. "Oh, I don't think Aro would come himself for something like this. If any of them came it would be Caius, but the three of them rarely leave Volterra. They certainly don't leave for small hunting excursions of three or four werewolves. And honestly," I could feel a slight amusement play within him, "I think after Caius' run-in, they're all scared stiff of werewolves. I doubt they'd risk endangering themselves by being anywhere near the creatures."

I relaxed and breathed a sigh of relief. I thought this was a plan I could live with. I did hate the creatures still, would probably always hate them, but the fury and retributive enmity was ebbing out of me. Carlisle was right. Justice had been served already. Anything more on my part would be vengeance. And I had left that world behind long ago. Why not let the Volturi clean up the mess they had made? They would be fast and efficient, Anya and Viselkeizedevia would be safe, and it might even help to ease the tensions between the Volturi and the Cullens. Somehow, even in the most difficult of situations, Carlisle always knew how to do the right thing. I wondered how anyone could be so good, so noble as Carlisle. Had there ever been anyone more admirable in the existence of this planet? Had those mammoth primordial oaks ever seen his equal? I doubted it. I doubted it were possible.

Slowly, with deep calming breaths, I pushed myself up and rose to my feet. I felt rather embarrassed, now that it was all over. I kept my eyes on my feet.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Carlisle questioned carefully. I could tell he wasn't entirely sure I was over my fit of emotion or rage. He seemed wary, ready to talk me out of another ill-conceived course of action.

"We should go back," I responded, my eyes still on my bare feet. They sparkled in the moonlight breaking through the canvas of leaves, sending dim rays of rainbow slivers dancing across the muted earth. The sight might have been beautiful, but to me it was another sign that I was something else, something _not human_.

Carlisle didn't answer but I heard the slight rustle of fabric as his skin brushed against the collar of his shirt in a nod. I began trudging slowly back to the cottage that entombed my sleeping angel child. It was as though a magnetic force had been pulling me away from the house, forcing my muscles to move toward it with the undeniable power of physics. As I headed back toward the building I felt that same force pulling me back, back into the trees. No, not pulling, I decided, _pushing_. Like two magnets with reversed polarities. It was repelling me from the structure that was now, I realized, so abhorrent to me. It was the place where my dream child lay, empty and lifeless, where nothing but sorrow and pain awaited me, where no one but her grief-stricken mourners sat in torment. It was Hell.

With great physical effort I forced myself to push against the resistance that kept me from the house, that pushed me back into the woods, promising freedom from the pain. Empty promises, I told myself. There was no escape from this. Our kind was so immutable, so fixed, dead in so many ways from the time of our rebirth, that change was almost impossible. But when change did come, when something -- or someone -- broke through that granite exterior and penetrated our stone hearts, the change was permanent. It could not be undone. Just as Alice had changed my life forever, changed my very being, so had Kristalene. Every member of my family had chipped and chiseled away a part of me, altering me and exposing new facets, making me different, making me better. Kristalene was no exception. It had taken only moments, only hours, but the alteration would last an eternity, would last forever. The effects of knowing her, of loving her, could never be reversed.

I smelled the child's scent on the path as we neared the house, on the trees and leaves, faint but lingering, refusing to free me. Carlisle followed behind me, never saying a word, simply sending emotions of support and understanding and love. I was grateful for the silence. What was there to say?

We reached the house and I could hear Esme inside, muttering soothing words to Anya as she cried. I couldn't hear Alice and I felt a sudden pang of deep guilt for leaving her there alone with the child. Wasn't she just as devastated as I was? Why did I have the right to escape and she did not? I moved a little quicker and climbed the rough wooden steps onto the porch.

I paused for a moment at the door, wondering whether I should knock. Esme and Alice knew I was here, but I didn't want to be ... impolite. I decided that the interruption to Anya's grieving would be more intrusive than the discourteous action, so I turned the iron handle and pressed open the door.

I had tried to prepare myself for seeing the child again, but the breath was ripped from chest still, squeezed out by the icy vise. Though I had just seen her not twenty minutes ago, the sight of her lying there upon the unused bed, restful, peaceful, like a fairytale princess waiting for her prince, crushed me and I had to grip the door frame for support. She would never have the chance to find her prince. He would never come. No love could wake her from this eternal sleep.

Esme was curved over Anya's huddled form as she wept quietly but forcefully at the head of Kristalene's bed. Esme was patting her and murmuring words of comfort in her ear, a mother to the core. I looked around the room for Alice and found her standing in a shadowy corner, away from the suffering woman. She was as still as the marble she appeared to be carved from, staring in the general direction of the two women, but seeming to see something much farther away. Usually such looks meant she was watching the future, but there was something different about her face now. It was too pained to be seeing tomorrow. Such bleakness could only belong to today.

I crossed the tiny room in three quick strides and wrapped my arms around my world, my universe. She seemed to thaw and melt in my arms, sagging with the weight of her sorrow. She leaned her head into my chest and cried, silent tearless sobs. They racked her body and I had to hold her tightly to keep her from sinking to the ground, but even Esme didn't hear a sound. Alice was stronger than I was. I had been far from silent in the woods with Carlisle. Alice was the rock.

I stroked her inky hair slowly, again and again, supporting her almost nonexistent weight with my body. I didn't dare betray her soundless mourning with soothing words, so I just ran my hand down her hair, again and again, holding her tightly to my chest and kissing her head. I wondered when the pain would lessen, for either of us. It would never be gone, I knew that, but when would it be bearable? The void left by the child's absence would never be filled, but when would it be diminished? When would we be able to function normally again, not whole, but able? I didn't know, and I tried to fight the magnetic repulsion as I was bombarded with Anya's despair, Alice's devastation, and my own desolation, tinged with sympathetic grief and loss from Carlisle and Esme. It washed over me with the force of a tidal wave, drowning me in pain. It was all I could do not to gasp for air as I stroked Alice's hair and held her close, listening to the sounds of Esme's consolation.


	19. Chapter 19

19. PEACE

I SAT IN THE CRAMPED AIRPLANE SEAT WITH MY HANDS FOLDED ON MY

lap, staring dumbly down the aisle at the bathroom door. Carlisle, Esme, and Emmett were seated together six rows behind us. I was grateful to whatever Providence had allotted me even this small amount of solitude. I didn't know what to think, and I certainly didn't know what to say. Alice sat next to me with her hand on my forearm, but other than that our bodies did not touch. Somehow our pain was deeply personal, not something either of us was ready to share. Or, rather, not something we could _bear_ sharing -- the combined pain would be unendurable. So we sat in aching silence, each of us lost in our own heads, lost in our own memories and painful regrets.

The ceremony had been during the morning. I had insisted. Anya kindly offered to hold it at night so Alice, Carlisle, Esme, and I could attend, but I couldn't stand the thought of the child being buried with that darkness. She had been so bright, so vivacious. Perhaps a few rays of sunlight would be trapped with her in that resting place, stay with her as she slept. We had watched from the trees a few meters away. I had heard every word, translating some of it for Alice, Carlisle, and Esme. The traditional,

"_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil..._"

A prayer I had not heard before,

"_We beseech Thee, O Lord,_

_ in Thy mercy,_

_ to have pity on the soul of Thy handmaid;_

_ do Thou, Who hast freed her_

_ from the perils of this mortal life,_

_ restore to her the portion of everlasting salvation,_

_ Through Christ our Lord,_

_ Amen._"

And a recitation from the man Sasha that was apparently traditional here, describing Heaven and God's throne and the angels that waited upon Him.

Anya couldn't do more than cry, though I wondered how there were physically any tears left in her. How strange this all was, a part of my mind mused through the numb, unthinking consciousness. To speak of "the perils of this mortal life," to describe the angels worlds away. Kristalene was not mortal, and yet, she was no more. Mortality had claimed her despite her immunity. Angels were not distant mythical creatures, for she had been one, here upon the earth, walking amongst us and lighting the darkness with her strength and kindness. I pressed my lips into a hard line -- I didn't like their chosen prayers. They didn't seem to fit, they didn't seem appropriate.

"_Eternal rest, grant unto them, O Lord,_

_ and let perpetual light shine upon them._

_ May the souls of the faithful departed_

_ through the mercy of God rest in peace._

_ Amen._" Carlisle had murmured, reciting a benediction from one of his centuries of existence. I wasn't sure which one -- it didn't sound like it was from seventeenth-century England, at any rate. I mulled that piece over. I liked it better. _Perpetual light, rest in peace_ ... the angel child should sleep forever in the light, should exist forever in sun.

There were no tears in me anymore, pricking and fighting to be shed, no more dry sobs to rack my body and crumple me to the ground. The numbness that I had clung to so desperately two days before, that had slipped through my clutching hands like water through a sieve, only to be replaced by the icy steel vise of pain and loss, had finally returned. Now, when it would perhaps be more appropriate to cry, I could not. I felt very little. I felt Alice in my arms, small and forlorn, I felt the atmosphere of sadness and intense loss from every member of the tiny village, I felt Carlisle, Esme, and Emmett's borrowed grief, but for myself, I felt nothing. My mind thankfully blocked the memories, blocked the pictures that would have deepened the fault line in my fractured heart. By some blessed allowance from God or Fate or pure self-preservation, my mind focused only on what was going on around me now, only on the scene before me. I heard the words, I saw the tears, but it was as though I was watching someone else's mourning, a movie I was interested in, but that had no real impact on my life. I thanked whatever influence it was that spared me the torture now. I knew I would have to pay the piper later, knew the pain would crash back over me ten-fold, just as it had in the woods with Carlisle, but it was a bargain I was willing to make. Not only so I could stay strong for Alice and Anya, but just to have some _peace_, some freedom from the pain, even if just for an hour.

I looked up at the sun, considering Kristalene and where she might be now. Somewhere in my head I had the idea that I might catch a glimpse of Heaven up there, a glimpse of my angel child. Stupid, I rebuked myself -- I didn't even know if I believed in such things. I saw only the blinding orb, and, halfway across the sky, the thin white sliver of the new moon, intruding on the daylight again. Was that me, I wondered? Inching into the human sphere, unsure of my welcome, unsure of my place. Was I an intruder on this human mourning? Did those who would not die have any right to grieve over those that had? Was any claim I might have had negated by the fact that the one I grieved for was, in fact, lost because of me? Gone because I existed? A searing, icy pain shot through me, ripping the breath from my chest. For a split second of panic I feared that the numbness I clung to so desperately had finally left me, as I knew it must. I froze in terror, not knowing how I could possibly bear the pain I knew was coming. But as quickly as the pain had come, it was gone, leaving me empty and unfeeling once again.

A few of the villagers had come to the head of the grave and spoken, relaying memories of Kristalene's childhood or good deeds, some wishing her well in the next life, some talking of how she was where she belonged now, with the angels and her mother. My throat was tight and it was difficult to breath. I wasn't sure if I agreed. Assuming there _was_ a Heaven, as Carlisle believed, it was a lovely thought that the child was free from guilt and violence, free from the pain of her last hour of life, reunited with the mother she loved. But it felt wrong, somehow. Somehow I could not feel that Kristalene _belonged_ elsewhere, that her _home_ was someplace other than this tiny forgotten village amongst the ancient trees and people that she loved. I could not feel that she belonged anywhere but with Anya. She did not belong anywhere but with me.

We had watched as the priest made the sign of the cross over the head of the casket, reciting another prayer as the pall bearers lowered the child into the ground. Every molecule of air was squeezed from my body, my chest and throat closed as though I were being crushed. But, gratefully -- I could not express how grateful I was -- I remained detached. I watched as the coffin was lowered slowly into the hole in the ground, into the darkness. I was right to insist on the daylight, I thought. If there had been nothing but night here, I didn't think I could have watched them put her down there. I think I might have grabbed the ropes and ripped her back out. She shouldn't be in the dark.

I closed my eyes and heard the first muted _thud_ as the soil was shoveled onto the oaken coffin. Despite the miraculous numbness, I didn't think I could watch them bury her, watch as each ray of light was pushed out by dirt and blackness. I tried to concentrate on other sounds -- the breathing of my family, the birds, reserved and forlorn in the trees. _Thud._ The soft scurry and squeaking of rodents across the damp leaves. _Thud. _The wind through the thick branches, the wind across the wooden roof of the tiny church. _Thud._ The church where Kristalene had gone every Sunday, where she had prayed for forgiveness. _Thud. _Anya's sobs of absolute anguish, Alice's quick rasping gasps as she shuddered in my arms. _Thud. Thud. Thud._

"Let's go. We'll come back tonight to say goodbye to Anya." Carlisle had said, placing his sturdy hand on my shoulder. I nodded stiffly, grateful that he had suggested it so I would not have to, and turned and walked back into the forest, the _thuds_ echoing and fading behind us.

"Renesmee and Jacob are home," I heard Esme tell someone. "They had a wonderful time and no problems at all. Alice was right..." she trailed off.

Alice didn't respond to her name in any way. I glanced at her beautiful stone face out of the corner of my eye. Her expression was unreadable. Blank. I wondered what she was seeing now. The funeral? Our hunt? Those glimpses of the future that would never be now? Our last goodbye to Anya?

"We're so sorry for your loss," Esme had murmured as she hugged Anya goodbye. "If there's ever anything you need..."

"If you have any concerns about the Volturi, please let us know immediately," Carlisle had added. He had informed Anya about the others who would be coming, warned her that they were not like us. He didn't want to call Aro until Alice and I were safely out of the country, but he felt confident that the Volturi would mobilize immediately to track the wolves. He had told Anya that he would do everything in his power to ensure the town's safety, both from the werewolves and from the Volturi, but just in case he had given her his cell phone and charger so she could call us immediately if there were any danger. Carlisle's old "friend" -- if the word could be applied to him -- Allastair was not far from Viselkeizedevia, keeping under the radar in southern Lithuania, and he had reluctantly agreed to protect the woman and the village to the best of his ability should Carlisle call. At the very least I hoped he could get Anya out, take her somewhere safe.

"Thank you. I will." Anya had replied softly. I felt a strange new loss swelling in her, though she was trying to push it back inside, a new sadness and a yearning. I was puzzled what it meant.

"I'm so glad we got to meet you. Kris-- your sister loved you very much," Alice breathed in the woman's ear as she rose on her toes to hug her goodbye. There was no hint of a shiver, no trace of fear in Anya's emotions at this intimate embrace from a vampire. She truly was an amazing woman, I thought. So worth protecting.

I had been last to say my goodbyes. Emmett had returned to the inn during the service to retrieve mine and Alice's things, not really sure what to say to the human sister of the vampire he had never met. I knew he was waiting in the woods now, just past the treeline. I had meant to be strong and cordial, being polite without evoking renewed grief, but I found myself holding the human woman around the shoulders, touching her hair where it ran down her back -- the same shade and thickness and weighted curl as Kristalene's...

"I'm so sorry," I choked. What else was there to say? "You'll never know how sorry I am."

"Don't be sorry," Anya had answered, shaking her head as she pulled away from me so she could address us all. "Kristalene was so happy when she met you. She told me how good you were, how fine and noble. She told me how you," she looked at me, "were a soldier, but you gave up your life of blood for love and to protect humans. She told me how you both taught her to hunt animals, so she would never have to harm another person again. She was so happy ... So ... hopeful..." she looked at the ground.

I swallowed at the memory -- it was difficult with my throat so tight -- and clutched at the arm rest a little tighter.

As we had left I had seen Sasha knocking tentatively on the door, apparently waiting down the road for Anya to be alone. The sight had eased my mind a little. Persistent Sasha. I wondered fleetingly why he had never courted Anya, why he hadn't married her years ago. Maybe he didn't think she needed him, with Kristalene around. Maybe Anya's life was perfectly adequate with her sister, contented and happy, with no need for a husband, no desire to alter the comfortable bubble in which she lived. I had been seriously concerned how Anya would ... not survive, for I could tell she was a fighter -- but live, from day to day, without Kristalene. They were the world to each other, soul mates in a very real sense. I had even considered asking Anya to move back to Washington with us. But I knew, when I saw Sasha, that she would be all right. A part of her would always be missing, just like a part of me and Alice would always be missing, but Sasha would help to fill the void, help to keep her in the light. I hoped that Anya was not like Bella, hoped she was like most humans. Bella had never healed from the loss of her soul mate, Edward, when he had left her so many years ago, but most humans healed, didn't they? Most of them grew better with time, the pain was eased and the hole inside them closed. Of course, most humans ran away from vampires. Most humans were appalled and horrified by our very existence. Bella had not been. She had seemed ... intrigued. I hoped the similarities between her and Anya stopped there.

"Yeah, Rose is furious," Emmett was grinning -- I could hear it in his voice, "She had this whole 'Welcome Home' excursion planned for Ness. But when Edward heard it was skydiving--" he laughed his booming laugh. I could see the three or four passengers and two stewardesses who were still awake turn to look at him in surprise and disapproval.

"Well, she shouldn't be surprised," Esme sighed, and I could picture her shaking her head. "What did she expect?"

"I told her he'd never go for it. She thought since he'd given into the motorcycle and Mexico that maybe he was finally letting go, finally admitting that Renesmee's an adult. Ha!" he snorted, "That kid will always be the two-foot long baby with the bronze curls and silent commands to him. He'll never admit she's grown up."

"What did he say to Rosalie?" Carlisle asked, trying to keep the smile from his voice.

"Well, it was hard to tell. You know how Rose likes to ... ah, embellish. I got the impression there were some attacks on her vanity, though, and something about her 'being so shallow you'd think some intelligence could shine through...' "

"That's not nice," Esme reproved. I had the feeling she would chastise Edward when she got back. I might have been entertained by this prospect on another day -- Esme scolding know-it-all Edward as though he were a misbehaving schoolboy pulling the girls' pigtails, and Rosalie being put in her place by _anyone_ -- but today I felt ... nothing. Just numb. I wasn't amused, I wasn't annoyed, I wasn't even interested. I was glad to know Renesmee and Jacob were home safely, but my concern ended there.

"Jasper," Alice whispered. Her voice was so full of pain that I couldn't help tensing. I didn't know if I was ready for this. I didn't know if I could handle it yet.

"Yes, love?" I leaned my face down and kissed the top of her head.

"I love you," she breathed.

"I love you too, my angel. More than heaven and earth. You are everything."

"Not everything," she said in a voice so low I could hardly be sure she spoke at all. Her eyes were on her porcelain hand where it rested on my forearm, and I felt a slight unease that I couldn't look into them, that I couldn't see into her soul now to try to judge how badly she was hurting. If her pain were anything close to mine... I swallowed. No, she wasn't everything. But she was the most I would ever have, and she was certainly enough.

"Jasper?" she repeated, leaning her head against my shoulder.

"Yes, love?"

"I -- I don't want children anymore. I don't want to adopt."

I hesitated, not knowing how to answer her. What did she want me to say? She turned her exquisite angel's face to look at me, her onyx eyes so deep with a silent, heart-rending plea that I could hardly stand it. I would take the venom fire a hundred times in place of this torture. I would suffer for myself -- endure only my own agony -- a million times over rather than bear Alice's anguish for another second.

"Is that all right? Would you understand?"

I blinked, taken aback. What was she talking about? Would I understand what? Why would we adopt now? We had already had our child. There was no need -- no desire -- for another.

"You'd -- you'd forgive me that? I could be enough, even if I'm not everything you want?"

"Oh, Alice!" I cried, throwing my arms around her and pressing her tightly to my chest as understanding dawned. The woman across the aisle from us tossed a little in her sleep, but no one else seemed to notice the sound, "God, Alice, of course you're enough! You _are_ everything I want! More -- so much more -- than I could ever hope to deserve, so much more than I could ever have dreamt up in a thousand lifetimes! What are you talking about? Of course, my love! I couldn't exist without you, you know that."

"But we won't ever be a family," she continued, apparently intent on finishing her ridiculous argument, "we wouldn't ever have a child of our own. You wouldn't -- you wouldn't _resent_ me, in time, if I couldn't give you that? If I wasn't strong enough to -- to -- to take ... another one..."

"I don't want another one," I snapped, annoyed at the intensity of her conviction. She honestly feared that I would leave her because she didn't want another child than Kristalene? As if I _could_ leave her? As if it were possible? "We had our family," I added, softer this time, "maybe for just moments, but we had it. You, me, Kristalene. We had our hunt, we had our talk in the inn, on the bank of the river. Maybe it was just for a second, but we had it. I don't want anyone else, either. She ..." I swallowed, looking down the aisle again, "she was our child, if just for a day. She will always be ours."

"But--"

"Alice," I glared down at her, "What do you think I am? You _are_ my family. You are my only reason for being. I could no more leave you than I could leave ... well, I was going to say my heart, but I suppose I could go on without my heart. Without my soul too. But I _cannot_ exist without you! After all these years, how can you not know that?"

"It's different now," she insisted, burying her face in my chest, unable to meet my gaze. I thought she feared she might lose her nerve to offer to "set me free" if our eyes met, "We didn't know something was missing before. We didn't know we weren't completely happy. But now we do. Now we'll always know there's something gone, we'll know we're not whole. It's only natural to want to fill that void, to try to _be_ happy again--"

"Do you really think I could ever be happy without you? I have never in my existence -- not when I was human, not when I was with Maria, never -- been happy without you. Happiness doesn't exist for me without you. _Nothing_ exists for me without you."

"You _think_ that --" she started. She heard me growl as I was about to interrupt her again and changed her approach, "You deserve so much, Jasper. You have so much to offer. I could never forgive myself if I kept you from that, if I kept you from what you really wanted--"

"Damnit, Alice!" I kept my voice low, though the tone was a roar, "_You_ are what I really want! What don't you understand? I am nothing without you! I would quite literally _die_ without you -- not just if you were dead, but if I was not _with_ you! There is nothing I wouldn't do for you, nothing I wouldn't sacrifice or give up, even if that's what I was doing. But I'm not giving anything up. I wanted a child, yes. I wanted a little girl with dark hair and thick lashes, with deep eyes with that let you see all the way to her soul. I wanted a little girl who was kind and brave and smart and good. And I found her. I had her. And now she's gone. I don't want another one! She not a _puppy_, for God's sake! I can't just replace her because she -- because she was taken from me! And now, now when I'm hanging on by a thread, when all I have left in the world is you, you tell me you want to _leave me_? For my own goddamned good? Are you kidding?"

Alice didn't answer. She looked at me for a long moment, waited while my breathing calmed and my fuming died down.

"Don't yell again," she ordered, though technically I hadn't raised my voice. She placed her satin hand on my cheek, "I promise I will only ask this once and then I'll drop it."

I waited, clenching my jaw, preparing for another of her asinine convictions.

"You do not want another child. Ever. And you are ... okay staying with me even though we will never have more than the two of us? I'm not going to argue with you anymore, but I want you to know I would understand if you said no. I wouldn't hold it against you."

I met her gaze, waiting while she finished. Might as well let her get it all out. Even after she had finished I waited another entire minute before speaking, so she'd know -- though I didn't know how she _couldn't_ know -- that I meant what I said.

"Alice, I love you. I do not want another child. I do not want to be without you. Ever. I am giving nothing up for you, here. We feel the same way. I may always be in pain because of Kristalene, but it is a pain that cannot be healed; not by time, not by another child, and certainly not by your absence. I do not _want_ anything more than you ever again. If the world imploded tomorrow and all that was left in the universe was you, my life would go on with perfect fulfillment. I can't believe I have to explain this, but you _are_ my life. You _are_ my world. What would there be for me without you?"

She stared into my eyes and I thought she was deciding whether or not I really meant what I said. I didn't comprehend how she could doubt me. How could she possibly _not know_ how I felt? Did she really think Kristalene had changed even that? Changed _everything_? Although I could be altered, could be chipped and chiseled with great effort, there were some parts of me that were permanent. My love for Alice simply _could not_ change. It was everlasting, indestructible. The very core of my marble being. It could not be destroyed without destroying me. The only way my love for Alice would cease to exist was if _I_ ceased to exist. Even then, I thought it might go on. Even when I were no more I thought my feelings for Alice would remain, somehow; an energy, a force, too powerful to be erased, no matter what had happened to the body that had encased it.

I tried to relay to her everything I felt for her, every truth that was in my soul -- if I had a soul -- through my eyes. I wasn't sure I managed it -- my eyes were not the fathomless wells Alice's were. Finally, though, she seemed to accept what I had said. She nodded a fraction of a millimeter, almost to herself, and rested her head upon my chest. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her tightly to my body, whispering into her ebony hair.

"I don't know what to say besides, I love you. My darling, wonderful, incredible, beautiful, ridiculous angel, I love you. And I am nothing without you here."

"I love you, too," she breathed back, closing her eyes and letting her lips brush against my chest.

I stroked her locks with my free hand and kissed the top of her head again and again, murmuring, "My angel. My love," into her hair. The black sky was dark and clear out the window, and I saw, as I clutched my tiny ballerina in my arms, the lopsided curve of the moon shining brightly in the distance, golden and luminescent. It seemed to glow with it's own light tonight -- not a reflection of the sun, but a celestial beacon shimmering with a glory all its own. Brilliant and dancing across the sky, alive and vital it hung there, lighting the skyway back, lighting the way home.


	20. Chapter 20

20. HOME

EDWARD AND ROSALIE WERE WAITING FOR US WHEN WE ARRIVED BACK

at the Sea-Tac Airport around nine o'clock the next morning. I had been afraid Edward might come -- not that I wasn't happy to see my brother, but I was hoping to delay the mind-reading for as long as possible -- and I had to work hard to keep the inhospitable thoughts from my mind so as not to hurt his feelings. I wished he had stayed home, sent Bella instead. It was almost unbearable having Edward see what I was seeing, what I couldn't keep hidden. I wasn't ready to talk about it. I wasn't ready to face it.

Edward hugged Alice tightly for a long moment, whispering something in her ear too softly for me to catch. Alice buried her face in his chest and nodded. Alice and Edward had always been the closest of the Cullen siblings. "Freaks among those who were already freaks," Edward had said once. Edward freed one hand and clasped it around my shoulder compassionately. He nodded to me, letting me know he understood my feelings, understood that I was unprepared to share with anyone yet. And that was all.

Rosalie, dressed in a thin, clingy cashmere sweater-dress of eye-catching royal blue and knee-high stiletto boots, no doubt aware of the attention lavished upon her by every human with a pulse, ran and threw herself into Emmett's arms as though he were a soldier returning from five years of war. I was surprised she didn't jump into his arms and wrap her legs around his waist, too. They kissed passionately, half the airport watching, as though they were long-lost lovers reunited at last. I saw Edward grimace in agreement at my sulfurous thoughts. It was more than a bit ridiculous.

When we got down to the parking garage Edward kindly agreed to squeeze in with Emmett, Rosalie, Carlisle, and Esme in Rose's tiny M3. Normally I would have insisted he was being absurd, but today I was grateful for the gesture. It would be nice to have those last few moments of time alone with Alice before we reached the big white house and had to endure the well-meaning sentiments of relief for our safety, curiosity about what had gone on, and questions about the angel child. The two hour drive would scarcely be enough time for me to prepare myself. Maybe I would drive the speed limit. That would double the time I'd have.

Alice and I climbed into Edward's silver volvo drearily, both of us quiet and somber. I felt a little of the weight pulling down my stomach and the steel gripping my chest relax when I saw the familiar pines and spruce fly by, the pearl-gray cloud-covered sky overhead, and the shining wet pavement dispatched with heady speed beneath our wheels as we drove away from Seattle. This was home to me. It was so much more comforting than the immense oaks and enormous boulder cliffs and bright golden moon of Viselkeizedevia. I eased my foot off the accelerator, remembering my plan to take what time I could.

It wasn't until we passed through Port Angeles, only an hour from Forks as I drove sixty, that Alice finally spoke. I could feel her tangle of emotions, the confusion she was feeling -- not wanting to exclude or keep things from the people she loved, but not sure she was able to really let them in -- and I had been vacillating between beginning a conversation to try to let her talk it out, or leaving her alone entirely so she could think through her inner turmoil.

"What are we going to tell them?" she murmured, staring out the window at the passing town as though we had been carrying on a conversation this whole time.

"I --" I hesitated. I had no idea what I was ready to confess. "I don't know. What ... what do you feel _able_ to tell them?"

"I don't know. Maybe Carlisle or Edward could..." she trailed off, still gazing unseeingly out the window. I spared a glance at her reflection in the glass. Her face was blank, devoid of the emotions I could feel so plainly inside of her. I wondered why she expended the effort to hide her feelings when she knew I could discern them as plainly as if she proclaimed them aloud. With a stab of guilt and horror it occurred to me that this outward show of composure might be the only way she was holding herself together, the only way she was keeping her grip on rationality and functionality. Pretend you weren't falling to pieces, and maybe you wouldn't.

"Maybe that would be best," I conceded, watching her cautiously from the corner of my eye, "They'd all understand."

She finally turned to face me. Only her eyes revealed how much pain she was really in.

"It feels _wrong_ somehow, though, doesn't it? To let them tell the story, when they didn't even know her? When they never even met her? It seems like ... like we aren't doing her memory justice or something."

I bit my lip. Yes, it did seem wrong somehow to let others tell the tale of the beautiful angel child and her tragic death. Not only did it seem ... _cowardly_ in a way, as though I were too weak to explain myself, but Alice was exactly right. It was like hearing the story of the assassination of Martin Luther King from a textbook. There was no emotion to the tale, no vitality. Edward and Carlisle could never possibly relay how incredible Kristalene had been. How could they? Even seeing her through my eyes, even seeing my feelings, it was like watching a movie. They were not Edward's memories, not Edward's emotions.

"Maybe we should just play it by ear," I hedged, not wanting to commit myself to the telling of a story that could very well prove to be too excruciating for me, "We'll see how ... up to it we feel when we get there."

Alice nodded slowly and then turned to stare silently out the window again.

As we approached the big familiar white house a sense of comfort and homecoming washed over me. I hadn't realized how much I had missed this place until now. It was silly, perhaps, as I had lived in dozens of houses in my century and a half of existence, but the glass walls and broad porch and wide, sprawling lawn were more than just a house to me. They represented the happiest times of my life. My family, Renesmee, Alice, the sleepy little nowhere town of Forks ... this was not just a house. It was home.

I opened the Volvo's door and breathed deeply the comforting, familiar scent of the spruce trees, the pine, the moss and ferns, the damp rich soil, the almost-overpowered oaks, the wide stream yards away. It evoked a sense of belonging and contentedness in me which I had not expected, but which I was very grateful for. I realized this was the first pleasant feeling I had felt in days. It was certainly good to be home.

I opened the door for Alice and handed her the smaller carry-ons, then pulled the steamer trunk from the back. We had barely gotten to the porch before we were assaulted with hugs and pats and squeals of welcome and relief from Bella and Renesmee.

"Oh, Uncle Jasper! I'll never forgive myself for letting you go to Europe! The worst thing we encountered in Cancun was a stingray! Oh, if you had -- well, it would have been all my fault--"

"Ness, don't be ridiculous," I asserted, prying her arms from around my waist so I could look at her. She had grown in just the week or so we had been gone! She was a sixteenth of an inch taller, and her face seemed slightly more mature, older. I wondered how old she was now, physically. Twenty-one, maybe? Twenty-two?

"Alice! Jasper! I'm so glad you're both all right! If anything had happened to you--" Bella was crying -- quite literally except for the lack of actual tears -- as she nearly crushed Alice and then me. "Thank heavens! What would I have done without you?"

It took nearly five minutes for the melee to die down and for Edward and Carlisle to convince Bella and Ness that we were fine and -- Edward whispered to them as I pretended I couldn't hear -- that we could actually use our space right now. I felt guilty, but I was indebted to my brother and his mind-reading capabilities, grateful for them for once.

"Where's Jacob?" I asked, realizing that the immense dark form -- and the accompanying smell -- was not present.

"Um," Renesmee hesitated.

"He thought it best to give you some time," Edward answered, discreetly watching mine and Alice's face for any reaction, "He wasn't sure how you'd feel about ... about him." Edward added when neither Alice nor I gave any response.

I nodded. I had been worried myself how I might react to Jacob and the other Quilieute wolves. I knew they weren't really werewolves, and they had no relation to the wolf I so loathed in any case, but I also knew I was far from rational right now. I was sure Jacob had stayed away out of polite consideration, but it was probably he who benefitted most from the decision -- I didn't feel my reason or my temper could be counted upon at the moment. I would hate to kill Renesmee's new husband in a fit of blind rage. Wise of him to stay away, I thought.

Edward nodded, understanding and perhaps slightly smug. I wondered if it had been his idea to keep Jacob from the house for a while.

As Alice and I stood on the front steps awkwardly accepting assurances of gratefulness for our safety and apologies for us ever having been in danger, I felt an odd sense of panic rising within me. I just couldn't do this now. I knew they all meant well, I loved them all, but their empathy and anxiety, carefully masked by small talk, was simply too much. I was right not to agree to anything -- I just couldn't bear to talk about Kristalene now. Even here, a world away from the tiny forgotten town in the ancient woods, surrounded by people who loved me and the place I called home -- even here she was too real. The memory was still too close.

"I think I should unpack," I mumbled as I hefted the steamer trunk over my head and started up the stairs, trying not to run from the gathered family full of love and concern and pity. The bedroom Alice and I shared probably wouldn't be far enough away to be free from their sympathetic emotions, but the space and walls would be a buffer, at least. I would try to make myself be polite and reasonable and not bolt from the house like a crazed recluse.

I could feel eight pairs of eyes upon me as I nearly sprinted up the stairs and down the hall. I wasn't sure if Alice was following, and again I immediately felt guilty and weak for leaving her alone to face what I didn't have the strength to face. I set down the trunk and was turning around to force my feet back down the stairs when I heard the soft "click" of the door closing. Alice dropped her carry-ons and stood there, her arms at her sides exactly as they were when she released the luggage, her face blank again, frozen like a beautiful forlorn statue carved from the finest alabaster. I waited for half a second, not sure what she needed. Then I saw her numbness crumble, and she began to fold to the floor as though she were fainting.

I caught her in my arms before her legs hit the ground and sank to my knees, cradling her shaking body against mine. I had been worried that the pain would overcome _me_, flashing back over me ten-fold what I would have felt if I had not pushed it down inside. I was so selfish. I hadn't even thought what the effort of maintaining the steely facade was doing to Alice; she always seemed so cool, so collected -- maybe they were habits she had picked up from me. But now, with a painful flash of immeasurable guilt, I realized just how small she was, how fragile in a way. She wasn't meant to bear so much pain. I was used to it, physically at least. True, this emotional despair was more than I had ever experienced, but I was built for pain in its various forms; hardened from a lifetime of war and cruel deeds. But Alice -- my sweet, kind, innocent angel, Alice -- was made only for light, only for happiness. I wished frantically that I could take her pain on myself, even if it killed me, even if it drove me mad. Alice should never have to suffer this way.

I rocked her in my arms, back and forth, as she shook again with silent, tearless sobs. It took me a long while to notice that I was crying, too. All the pain, all the loss, all the beautiful dreams for a full, sunny future that had been ripped to bloody shreds, all the tortuous desperation to ease Alice's suffering -- all of it crashed over me like a thousand waves of icy, steely, water, one on top of the other, stabbing into my lungs and throat and stomach and heart with every cubic inch, crushing me with their unendurable weight. I found myself again thankful for Edward's abilities so he could know to inform the others that we needed our solitude now, needed to be alone to grieve in private. I needed time to collect myself, to make myself be strong for Alice. I wanted more than anything -- more than my own sanity -- to help her, to take away her pain, even to ease it the slightest modicum of a fraction. And I couldn't help her while I was wallowing in this sea of despair. It wasn't for any outward appearances, not for any masculine pride or self-respect that I pulled myself together. I couldn't have cared less in that moment what anyone thought of me. It was purely for Alice -- purely for the fathomless depths of torment I felt overwhelming her body, purely for the racking sobs and agonized breaths that grated against my heart and made me want to fling myself in front of a train to stop the pain -- purely for her that I was able to stop, able to compose, able to come back. I took slow, deep breaths, pushing the memories to the back of my damnably spacious, unforgetting mind. They would hurt me later -- unbearably so -- but I locked them away tightly, trying to recall how I had achieved that wondrous numbness days ago. It took some time and great effort, but after several long minutes I was able to feel no pain but Alice's, no despair but hers. Mine was locked away, clamoring to escape and threatening to overwhelm me when it did, but it was secure for now. Alice's grief was all I felt, and it was enough.

I wasn't sure how long we sat on the cream carpet, rocking back and forth, as I tried to console and comfort the angel that was my world. Hours, certainly. It wasn't until the dull gray light out the window began to turn a rosy pink that I even thought to notice the passing of time. I hugged Alice's prostrate form to my chest and kissed her hair.

"I love you," I whispered, "We'll be all right. As long as I have you, I can get through this. And I'll help you get through it, too."

She wasn't crying anymore, though her eyes were still agonized and her face was still pained. She nodded slowly into my shoulder and stretched her neck to kiss mine, just under the scar made by her lifesaving bite. She pressed her head into my chest and we sat there, still rocking, as I stroked her hair and we tried to conceive of the future we would now have. One day at a time, we would live. One day we'd be able to talk about the angel child, to remember her mostly with happiness, with nostalgia and joy. One day the very thought of her name would not bring icy stabs of pain and knock the breath from our bodies. One day she would be a bright memory, golden and unstained by the darkness of the tragedy. One day.

"When do you think it will be?" Alice asked, seeming, as she so often did, to read my mind, "When do you think we'll finally be able to think about her without ... without all of _this_?" She gestured to our bodies tangled on the floor of our room with that exquisite grace that only Alice could possess.

"I don't know," I answered, looking at the window at the deepening pink of the setting sun. "Can you see?"

"Not yet," she murmured, "We can't _decide_ to be healed."

"No," I conceded, wishing with all my heart that we could, at least for Alice's sake. If there were anything in the world I could do to spare her this process, I would. But what could ease her suffering? What could numb her pain without simply postponing the inevitable heartbreak? I was risking quite a lot locking away my own devastation so I could comfort her -- I would not risk it with Alice.

Muted laughter filtered up to us from the living room. I could hear Jacob's deep animated voice, though I couldn't make out the words. They must be trying to be considerate, I thought. I usually had no trouble hearing conversations on the first floor. I heard Renesmee's sweet soprano cut in and I heard the muffled ringing of Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, Bella, and Edward's laughter, combined with the less subtle booming of Emmett's guffaw. I suddenly felt a sense of peace that I had not looked for, a _hope_ that I had not expected. No, not suddenly, I realized. It had been there, all along, I had just buried it under my despair. It swelled within me now and I clung to it gratefully. Alice and I were not alone in this. My family may not truly understand our pain, but they loved us. I didn't know if I had ever truly grasped how incredible a gift that was. My family loved me. And they would do everything in their power to help me get through this bleakest of times. As desperately as I was wishing I could take away Alice's pain, they were wishing they could take away mine. They would do everything they could for us. They loved us and we were family.

"Shall we go see what all the fuss is about?" I asked softly, scrutinizing Alice's face for her reaction. Despite her sorrow, the thought of being surrounded by those we loved and who loved us in return, surrounded by happiness and laughter instead of despair and tears, seem to ease her pain the slightest bit. I suppressed my groan of relief and stood quickly, lifting Alice to her feet as I rose, "I'd like to hear about the honeymoon," I added.

"Yes, so would I," she agreed, retracting her tiny doll-like hands from mine. She dusted off her designer blouse before running her fingers through her ebony hair to re-spike the short locks where my stroking had flattened them. Despite everything, I couldn't suppress the hint of a grin. The action felt unnatural, my lips and cheeks unused to the expression after so many days of grief.

"You are beautiful, my love, no matter what happens to your hair."

Alice returned my half-smile with some effort and stretched up on her tip-toes to kiss me.

"A girls does what she can," she quipped half-heartedly. I knew she was still in pain, as was I, but I knew she felt the hope, too. It was black and dark where we were now, but we could glimpse the light ahead. The dawn was not so far away. I bent my head back down, wrapping my arm around her tiny waist and pulling her up so her lips met mine. I kissed her long and deep, pouring all my love, all my undying devotion, all my hopes and desires for our future into the kiss, trying to convey to her how very much she meant to me, and how very much I needed her, and how very much I would do for her if I could. Her arms wrapped around my neck and we melted into each other, one love, one hope. My Alice. My love. My angel.


	21. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

"SO DO YOU THINK I SHOULD TAKE THE BLUE ONE OR THE PINK ONE?"

Renesmee held up two identical silk blouses, one in each buttermilk hand as she cocked her head toward her new husband.

"I dunno, what's the difference?" Jacob shrugged, flipping through a stack of photos before shoving them in an envelope and tossing them into the suitcase. It could hardly be called a suitcase, really -- Jacob himself could have squeezed inside it, and still had room for a dozen blouses.

Alice sighed in exasperation and snagged both shirts from her niece, folding them neatly and placing them in a corner of the case in the blink of an eye.

"You can never have too many clothes," she retorted as I raised my eyebrow at her. "You'll want options, Ness," she added, grabbing three more shirts and two dresses before Renesmee could decided against their necessity. Jacob and I exchanged glances and chuckled, and Renesmee sighed dramatically in amused resignation and plopped down on the bed next to Jacob.

Everyone was packed and all the boxes and suitcases and trunks were loaded in the moving van, Esme doing a final sweep of the house as Bella and Edward said their goodbyes to Charlie. Renesmee alone had left her packing until the last moment. I wasn't sure exactly why, but I had felt a confusion of feelings within her for the past two weeks. She was excited -- there was no doubt about that -- but she was also nervous, a little sad, a little scared. She would be leaving behind everything she knew to start a new life, a new adventure, somewhere else. I was acutely relieved that I got to embark on this adventure with her -- she so easily could have left us all behind. I was supremely grateful she wanted us around for the next leg of her life's journey. I reclined against the wall by the door watching Alice fuss about the limitations Ness had emplaced on her wardrobe with amused content.

"Our place is small, Aunt Alice," she had insisted, placing over half her closet's contents into the "storage" pile to be boxed up and cached for later, more spacious living quarters. "I won't have room for a tenth of this stuff."

"You could always keep it at the new house," Alice had retorted, pulling two skirts and three pairs of designer heels from the pile and curtly placing them in Renesmee's giant suitcase.

"There's really no point in arguing with her, Ness," I chuckled, dodging the high heel that flew at my face and catching it neatly with one hand. I tossed it back into the suitcase, grinning.

"I guess you would know," Jacob snickered, cringing in melodramatic fear and yanking a giggling Renesmee in front of him like a shield as I made as if to rise and retaliate. We had been jibing each other since the honeymoon about the other's submissiveness to the whim of our women. Jacob liked to pretend that of the five men in the house, I ranked only above Emmett on the "Whipped-o-meter." I usually let him have his "triumph" -- it was an empty victory. We all knew no one was more attuned or responsive to the impulses of their wife than Jacob.

"Give me back that heel, Alice," I growled in mock anger, "Or better yet, don't you have a boot or something, Ness? Every dog needs a sound beating with a boot once in a while."

"That's not funny," Alice chastised as she seized another stack of clothing from the storage pile and folded it into impossibly tiny corners of the swelling suitcase, though she couldn't keep the smile from her face.

"That's right, animal abuse is no laughing matter," Jacob smirked, toying with the laces of one of Renesmee's snow boots, "It's really cruelty to animals to let Jasper follow you around like a lost little puppy, Alice--"

Renesmee squealed and dodged out of the way as I tackled Jacob upon the expansive four poster bed and wrestled with him, dislodging the covers and nearly taking off the mattress in the shuffle. I had him pinned in about forty-five seconds, though, no real damage done. It was a good thing Edward had thought to get an iron bed all those years ago.

"Who's the pup, now, mongrel?" I chuckled, my right forearm across Jacob's broad shoulders pinning him against the edge of the mattress, my left hand holding Renesmee's boot out of his long reach.

"Yeah, yeah, sensei, you're the master. Let's see how you do when my bark's as bad as my bite."

"Oh, that sounds like a challenge, young Daniel-san," I grinned, releasing his shoulder and jumping to my feet in one lithe movement, "We'll have to break in the new woods in Hanover some time..."

Jacob returned my grin, rising from the bed and pretending to dust himself off. Jacob wasn't as skilled as Emmett yet, but fighting him was a nice change of pace anyway. At least he was less predictable. A few decades of skirmishes and he might shape up to be a nice adversary, I thought.

"Just make sure Esme hasn't planted a garden," Renesmee giggled and I threw her a disparaging glare.

"Are you guys ready yet? Bella and Edward are back, and I'd like to get that hunk of junk on the road before the semester starts," Emmett called up the stairs, stomping upward as he spoke. Emmett wasn't thrilled that Rosalie had volunteered him to drive the moving van. I couldn't suppress the widening of my grin.

"Maybe I'll let Em have first crack at you once we get there," I chuckled, tossing Renesmee's boot at Jacob. He caught it deftly, raising an eyebrow and pursing his lips as he dropped the boot into the suitcase. Jacob didn't like fighting Emmett. Emmett took it too personally and would refuse to speak to him for days on the rare occasion Jacob got any considerable hits in. Besides, Emmett never allowed for Jacob's inexperience, and Carlisle had had to set more than one broken bone after their engrossed tussles.

"So, can we get this show on the road?" Emmett grumbled as he strode into the bedroom.

"Oh, give me five minutes," Alice snapped, gathering the rest of the storage pile and squeezing it neatly into the last few inches of remaining space, "Make yourself useful and carry the shoes down."

"_Those_ are all shoes?" Emmett groaned incredulously, eyeing the two large suitcases and one long duffle bag stacked near the closet.

"Be glad you didn't have to haul down _our_ closet," I muttered, striding over to the pile of bags and grabbing the two suitcases. If not for their bulk I could have carried all three -- they weren't heavy to us, after all -- but their immense size made managing even the two difficult.

"I'm not sure there's room for all this, Alice..." Emmett began, trailing off as he caught Alice's vicious glare. I saw Renesmee perk up at the possibility, but quickly capitulate at Alice's next words.

"We haven't even packed up the Porsche yet. Don't worry -- it may not have much leg room, but it will fit all of this just fine," she disappeared into the closet with a triumphant expression. I chuckled, following Emmett out the door as he muttered darkly about "women and all their useless crap."

As I passed through the now-empty living room I noticed a solitary item stranded ominously in the corner. It didn't take a second glance to recognize it as Aro's wedding gift.

"What are they going to do with that?" I asked Emmett, jerking my chin toward the immense iron box.

"Leave it here, I guess," Emmett shrugged, "It creeps Ness out and she said she doesn't want it in her apartment. Can't say I blame her."

It had been a while, the pressing mystery shoved to the back of my mind by my near-death experience and the loss of my beloved Kristalene, but I wondered again how Aro had known about Renesmee's wedding.

"No one ever found out how they knew? The Volturi?" I asked, examining the eerie, engraved metal locker.

"No. Edward and Carlisle have their theories, of course, but we don't know for sure," he surprised me by chuckling darkly, "Do you know what it is? The cup inside?"

"No, what is it?"

"It's a fourth century _B.C._ Celtic fertility chalice! Can you believe that? Carlisle looked it up in one if his books. The religious elders would give them to a couple on the night of their, ah, union, and they would both drink from it. It was supposed to ensure--"

"Yeah, I get it. Thanks."

Emmett chuckled again, shrugging, "You have no idea how pissed Edward was when he found out! He's barely gotten used to the idea of Ness and Jacob ... _together_ like that, and then here's Aro, trying to shove reproduction down his throat--"

"Ugh, Emmett, I get it!"

"Carlisle thinks Aro really wants to see what happens when hybrids mate, what their offspring will be--"

"For crying out loud, Em, I'd rather not think about it, okay?" I growled, bolting quickly through the door, trying to escape his casual references to our six-year-old baby reproducing with a werewolf. Ech! I couldn't blame Edward for being furious. And what's worse, I knew Carlisle wouldn't be able to keep his own curiosity in check now that it was aroused. Edward would not only have to be seeing Ness and Jacob's love life replayed in their heads, but endure Carlisle's speculation about the possible repercussions of that love life. What a crappy gift to get stuck with!

"There's more?" Esme asked in surprise, glancing doubtfully over the packed moving van.

"You have no idea," I muttered, "Alice said we could pack up the Porsche if necessary."

"I think you're going to have to," Esme advised, "I don't think the van will _move_ if we cram anything more in."

"Great," Emmet grumbled.

I headed to the garage where I could discern Rosalie's M3, Edward's Silver Cloud Rolls Royce and Astin Martin Vanquish, Emmett's Jeep, Bella's Ferrari, and my motorcycle -- among others -- sheathed under thick car covers. Only Edward's Volvo, Rose's new BMW Z4 Roadster, Carlisle's Mercedes, Jacob's Rabbit, and Alice's 911 Turbo were coming with us to Hanover. We would move the other cars over by degrees -- every time we returned to Forks to visit Charlie, someone would drive a car back to New Hampshire. We would still have more automobiles than any family could possibly need.

I set down the bags and popped open the impossibly small trunk of the shiny yellow Porsche.

"What does she think is gonna fit in there?" Emmett questioned incredulously, "Maybe you should put the luggage in the front and make her ride in the trunk -- oof!"

He huffed as I elbowed him roughly in the stomach. I took the duffle bag from him and maneuvered it into the corner of the trunk. Then with a little reshuffling I managed to squeeze one of the suitcases in beside it. I tossed the other suitcase in the microscopic backseat and shut the door, dusting my hands off dramatically. I don't know why I bothered -- Alice was sure to repack anything I put in now, anyway. No point killing myself to try to make things fit.

I heard Jacob shuffling down the steps before I saw him. He appeared through the doorway of the garage, carrying the immense suitcase across his shoulders. He had to turn sideways to fit through the door.

"So where's this s'posed to go?" he asked, setting down the suitcase beside the Porsche and eyeing it as doubtfully as Emmett had, "This thing's almost as big as the car!"

"Oh, move over," Alice ordered, pushing Jacob lightly out of the way. As expected she removed the duffle bag and smaller shoe suitcase from the trunk, skillfully repositioning them and shoving them back in, making room for the other suitcase I had thrown on the backseat. When the trunk was -- miraculously -- shut tight and the backseat was clear, Alice nodded to me.

"Jazz, if you could."

Shaking my head in amazement, mirroring Emmett, Jacob, and Ness who had strolled in behind him to observe the feat of contortionism, I lifted the gargantuan suitcase over the lowered front seat and turned it on its side to squeeze perfectly into the back seat. It fit like a glove -- Alice had a good eye -- though it was good we didn't really require the use of the rear-view mirror.

"You're a miracle-worker, Aunt Alice," Renesmee breathed in awe.

"No, it's dark magic," Jacob chuckled as Alice stuck out her tongue.

"You'll be glad it's all there when you unpack, Jacob Black," Alice countered, a mischievous smile playing around her lips. I groaned in unison with Jacob's expectant grin.

"You couldn't wait 'til I was out of the room," I grumbled, exiting the garage before I could feel any more of Jacob and Renesmee's enthusiastic expectations. I walked quickly over to where Edward was tucking away the last knickknacks and odds and ends into the few remaining crevices of the moving van. Esme must have gone inside for one last walk-through of the house.

"I wish Alice would keep her thoughts to herself," Edward muttered to me, glaring in the direction of the garage.

"Believe me, I quite agree," I concurred, leaning against the edge of the van. "When did she get to be an adult? A _married_ adult?" I sighed. Edward knew I meant his only child, our little girl, our miracle baby.

"I don't know," he murmured, leaning against the opposite side of the frame, "I'm really trying, but you have no idea how ... how _challenging_ it is to try to see your _daughter_ through those eyes, to see her as a _woman_. It's taking all my self-restraint not to rip Jacob's limbs from his body every time he looks at her, and I actually _like_ the boy."

"I'm sorry," I offered lamely. I could only imagine how abominably _loathsome_ it would be to have to watch your daughter star in someone's fantasy's, even worse to have to see those fantasies acted out. Ech! I would never envy Edward again! Nothing he had was worth those pictures!

"I almost agree with you," he assented, grinding his teeth, "It's not as bad as I thought it would be, though. Jacob seems to be rather good at keeping those particular thoughts from me, for which I am indescribably grateful. Ness is having a little more trouble, but her memories are so colored by love and adoration, it's hard to be upset by them. They're just so _pure_, if such thoughts can be considered pure."

I tried to take comfort from that, the purity of Renesmee's love. It was only natural that such emotional love would express itself in physical ways eventually. Still, it didn't mean I had to be comfortable with it.

"No. I don't know that I will ever be," Edward agreed.

"So, everything in?" Emmett asked, emerging from the garage flanked by Jacob, Renesmee and finally Alice.

"Yes, I think that's the last of it," Edward answered, reaching up to pull down the heavy metal roll-down door. He latched it shut as Rosalie appeared, iPod in hand, scrolling down her "Cross-Country" playlist. Emmett glared at her sulkily. Rosalie would get to barrel down the freeways at one-hundred twenty miles an hour in her Z4 Roadster while Emmett would be lucky to crawl along at sixty-five, stopping every couple hours to refill the gas tank. I wondered what Rose would do to appease his ire when they finally got to Hanover, then immediately decided I'd really rather not know. I mentally thanked Esme again for strategically assigning Rosalie and Emmett to the rooms on the first floor, on the opposite side of the house from mine and Alice's. I hoped it would be far enough away to keep us out of earshot.

I heard the thick iron window covers descend slowly as Esme appeared at the front door, closing it behind herself and turning the key in the locks.

"Well, that's everything," she sighed, looking a little sadly at the beautiful white house. Everyone was a little sad. We all loved this house, would miss what it represented. It was familiar and comforting and known. Would the new house be so close to the thriving woods? Would it have a rushing river to leap over or dash across, or a sprawling lawn to wrestle in? Would Renesmee really come visit us as often as she promised? Could we really be as happy there as we had been here?

As soon as the sadness appeared, it began to fade, replaced by another emotion that was intensifying with every passing second. Yes, the Forks house was known and familiar, but Hanover was new. It was an adventure. Excitement began to creep over me from all sides.

Maybe a new beginning was just what Alice and I needed. An adventure might be just the thing to help take our minds off the loss of the only child we would ever have. It was a wound that was beginning to mend, but it was still far from healed. Some days Alice and I would just sit by the stream or in the towering spruces, just remembering and grieving the beautiful girl that had been stolen from this life. Some days I thought the pain was so unbearable that I must surely go mad from its torture, and I couldn't see the light of the dawn. But those were only some days. As the weeks had passed, those days had gone from never-ending -- one pain-filled sunrise blending into the next -- to days broken by moments of happiness and contentedness, to slowly, very slowly, becoming merely dark hours that were blemishes upon an otherwise peaceful existence. I could laugh, now, without the muscles around my mouth and eyes feeling taught and strained. I could joke and argue and care about where we hunted and what movies Renesmee wanted to see. I found that, more often than I would have thought possible a month ago, I was able to go about my life much as I had before. And I owed it all to my family.

How foolish I had been to think Alice and I were alone in this. The thought was absurd now. I had actually considered Alice the extent of my family. I would never take my brothers and sisters and parents and niece and nephew-in-law -- now there was a strange thought -- for granted again. They had helped me through this mourning as steadfastly and devotedly as ever I helped Alice. I was inexpressibly grateful for their support. As if I wasn't already eternally indebted to them for everything they had given me, all the kindness they had shown me, the very form of existence I now enjoyed, I was now forever beholden to them for my current state of recovery.

As expected, the strength I had feigned for Alice had taken its toll. Edward had found me one day, huddled against an immense pine three miles east of the house, nearly catatonic. I didn't fully remember the episode, all I could recall was that something about the colossal circumference of the pine's trunk had reminded be of the primordial oak tree Alice and I had circled in Viselkeizedevia as Kristalene watched in amusement at our awe. The tree was really only half of the oak's girth, but something about it had set me off, and I had crumbled into a ball of indescribable agony, freezing solid with the pure anguish of the icy despair, the stabbing cold penetrating through to my very bones. Even Alice hadn't been able to touch my consciousness when she arrived, moments after Edward, seeing my condition in her visions. It had actually taken every member of my family, all gathered around me in distressed anxiety, all emanating concern and support and unconditional love, to thaw my tortured mind and make me ... human again, for lack of a better word. If not for them all, I might remain, a zombie still, huddled against that tree, imprisoned in my mental Hell of memories and regrets.

In fact it had been only two days after that episode that another "intervention" of sorts had been necessitated. Thinking myself over the worst of my mourning I had gone alone into the woods, walking swiftly but aimlessly through the trees, obliviously lost in my own thoughts. I had been trying to think around the tragedy, around the pain. Like scratching at the skin around a healing scab, not wanting to reopen the wound but unable to leave it alone altogether. I _should _leave it alone. That would be healthier. But I couldn't seem to tear my thoughts away completely.

I wondered vaguely what had become of the Audi Alice and I had rented in Minsk. Had it ever been returned to the rental company? Had some farmer in Viselkeizedevia acquired a shiny but inefficient work car? I couldn't say I really cared that much.

What were the medical reasons behind my "sleeping" in the mine, my head resting in Alice's lap? I thought Carlisle's explanation behind my coma-like state made sense -- I had been practically poisoned to death, after all; certainly my body needed all its energy to recuperate, to fight off the foreign toxin ravaging my system. But to sleep _after_ I had awoken? It was very odd. Carlisle thought my body was still burning off the remnants of the poison that ran through my veins, still needing all its resources to heal and re-engergize me.

Burning. I remembered the burning. Remembered that Hell fire and the vivid nightmares ... and dreams. The big ivy-covered house in Hanover. The children playing hide-and-seek in the front yard. Alice in her dress and pearls holding a baby. Holding my baby. Holding Kristalene...

By the time I registered the smell and realized where I was, it was too late. A small patrol of Sam's wolves, headed by the quick-tempered, attack-first, ask-questions-later, Paul had cut me off, preventing the intended hasty retreat back to the Cullen's side of the treaty line. Apparently the newfound pacifism Paul had acquired after imprinting on Jacob's sister Rachel did not extend to vampires. To be fair I _was_ practically on Quilieute land, though technically still in the loosely-defined "no-man's land," but I still thought Paul's nearly instantaneous attack rather injudicious. We _had_ maintained a steady, if tenuous, peace for nearly a hundred years now; it seemed rather imprudent to risk destroying it over one abstracted and distraught vampire. Still, when Paul had attacked, I had defended. And then as the snapping jaws and mongrel-stench had invaded my senses, something in me had snapped. If I had been human I might have called it Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder; flashbacks. All I saw was that vile monster that had taken my child from me and tried to take my life as well. All the pent-up rage and anger and focusless blame had erupted, exploding like a powder keg. Again, I didn't remember much of the incident, I only remembered fighting Carlisle, Edward, and Emmett tooth and nail as they tried to pry me off the nearly-unconcious Paul. Luckily for me -- and for Paul, I supposed -- Seth had been one of those among the patrol party, and he had taken off after the first blows were exchanged to find Carlisle and Edward. They had, quite wisely, brought Emmett along, and it was only through sheer superior mass and strength that Emmett kept me from tearing Paul limb from limb. And it was only through Carlisle's most avid assurances that I was not myself and I would never, in my right mind, break the treaty, and reminding them that surely Jacob and Sam had informed them of the events in Belarus, that we narrowly avoided an all-out brawl. Even then Carlisle, Edward, and Seth were hard-pressed to stop the altercation before Jacob showed up. Skidding to a halt in front of us, his massive russet form heaving with exertion as he panted and glared at the other wolves, Jacob had certainly saved the day. Neither he nor Edward would tell me whether he had actually given orders to back down -- as the packs had more or less recombined after the Volturi's attempted assault, Jacob's orders usually had to be followed unless they were at odds with Sam's, though Jacob very rarely used this power, and never used it on his own pack -- or he had merely reasoned and threatened until Jared, Brady, and a newer addition, Reese, had wisely chosen to pull back. Carlisle had assured them he would see Sam as soon as I was calmed down, and the five of them had dragged, shoved, and appealed me all the way back to the house, very nearly kicking and screaming the entire way.

That had been the hardest outburst to live down. No one spoke of it for a while, but I noted Carlisle leaving every morning for a week with his doctor's bag in tow, carefully avoiding my gaze. I noticed Bella and Renesmee tiptoeing around me, being very careful to say nothing at all that might upset me. And I noted Edward and Jacob, with furtive glances in my direction, heading off into the woods toward the Quilieute border. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and I demanded Alice tell me what was going on.

"Carlisle's been patching up Paul. I'm afraid you did a good deal of damage, though I think he deserves what he got. And Edward and Jacob are going to meet with a group of the other wolves to try to smooth things over again."

"Again?" I asked meekly.

"Well, yes. Sam has apparently forgiven us, though he made it very clear that if you were ever caught on Quilieute lands again there would be _no_ backing down, no matter what Jacob's orders might be. And of course Seth understood, and Quil and Embry, but most the other wolves were chomping at the bit to come fight us. I gathered Jared and Reese were the worst. Reese is Paul's cousin, apparently, and he's taken it as a personal affront to his family's honor or something that Paul is going 'unavenged.' " She snorted at the ridiculousness of this notion.

I didn't. I felt awful. My own stupidity, my own damned, abominable temper had nearly destroyed the peace Carlisle had worked so hard to maintain, the camaraderie attained through bloodshed and battle. What had I done?

"What can I do?" I cried, jumping from my place on the white couch and starting for the door. I looked helplessly at Alice. I had to do _something_, but what? I couldn't go to Sam and apologize, I couldn't go to the wolves and explain. They'd rip my throat out as soon as look at me.

"You can't do anything, Jasper! You can't go near them!" There was a slight panic in her voice and it rose through two octaves as she leapt toward me in alarm. It struck me that she was worried for my safety, and I slumped down on the creamy carpet in defeat. Damn it! This was all my fault! And I couldn't do anything to make amends! Even if I could, after everything we'd been through, Alice's peace of mind was worth infinitely more to me than my own guilt or the werewolves' anger -- or even Carlisle's treaty.

"I'm a terrible person," I muttered, my face in my hands. Alice was at my side instantly, apparently all to willing to have someone to take care of, rather than having people hover around, intent on taking care of her.

"No, my love, no. Everyone understands. I don't know how you did it for so long -- how you kept it together -- but we all knew it couldn't last forever. It had to come out some time."

"Great," I mumbled, still not raising my head, "So everyone's been sitting around, taking bets on when I'd snap and try to get us all killed with my weakness?"

Gah! I hated feeling weak! And now my weakness had not only almost exposed us, almost ripped my sister-in-law to shreds, almost led to my brother -- and my wife's -- death, but now it put every member of my family in danger? God! I was a menace! They should banish me!

"Of course not, love, but I'd be lying if I said we weren't all ... wary. Do you know Edward's been following you everywhere you go for the past two weeks? He's stayed out of sight, trying to leave you your pride, but he was worried about you. That's how he got to you so fast with Paul."

Edward had been there first? I didn't remember that. I just had a blurry recollection of Emmett's iron arms around my chest, pinning my arms to my body like a steel cable, while Edward yanked at my waist and Carlisle stood with his body half-turned toward me, half to the wolves, trying to push me back as he talked the wolves down, me kicking and snarling the whole time, desperately trying to break free of Emmett's impossible hold and get back to destroying the wolf.

"He asked me if it was all right," she added, apparently fearing she might have gotten her favorite brother in trouble, "and I thanked him for doing it. I kept watching out for you, but of course it was a split-second thing -- I couldn't see."

"I don't think you're helping," I muttered despondently.

"Jazz, I love you. We all love you. I know your pride might be hurt, and I know you feel guilty, but everything anyone did was because they care about you. And everyone understands what happened, and no one blames you for it."

"No one except Paul," I grumbled.

"He'll survive," Alice snorted again, "Honestly, if he was dumb enough to take _you_ on -- even with three other wolves for back up--"

I stared at her incredulously.

"He shouldn't have attacked you," she said softly, running her long fingers through my hair, "He _knew_ what you were going through. Jacob told him. He knew what was going on, and still he attacked. It was just an excuse. Like I said, he deserved what he got."

I nodded vaguely in assent, but resolved to compose a letter of apology, or something along those lines, that Jacob or Carlisle could convey across the border to Sam and the wolves, maybe even to Paul. I mulled that over in my head, apologizing to Paul. I _had_ nearly killed him, even if he deserved it. What pride did I have left, anyway?

In the end it had worked out all right, for the most part. Paul had healed well enough and although I had acquired a few new enemies -- Rachel Black included -- and was formally banned from Quilieute lands in no uncertain terms, the former feelings of wary peace extended to the rest of the Cullens seemed to have been resumed. I took the shredded letter of apology that was returned to me care of an uncomfortable and embarrassed Seth to mean that Paul did not forgive me, but as long as the treaty remained intact I supposed I didn't really care what Paul -- or any of the rest of them, for that matter -- thought of me. I hadn't undone a century of careful peace with one fell swoop of temper, at any rate, and that was more than I deserved to ask for.

* * * *

"So, is that everything?" Esme eyed Alice dubiously. I couldn't help the twitch of a smile.

"Yes, unless you want to tow the motorcycle?..." Alice turned her wide amber eyes to Emmett with little hope. She had asked him a dozen times already, though I had assured her I could live without the bike for a few months, but Emmett had flatly refused, adding that he might be tempted to take it off the trailer and ride it to Hanover, abandoning the moving van on the side of the road.

"Fine," she said with a little huff, "Then yes, we have everything we need for now."

"For now?" Jacob chuckled, quickly adopting a sober expression under Alice's stern glare.

"Well, then I guess it's time to hit the road," Bella declared a little wistfully. We all looked back up at the big white house, now dark and boarded up. It seemed already a different place this way. No longer the bright, cheerful beacon of family and happiness. That place was in New Hampshire now. We would make it home.

Emmett slumped into the moving van, grumbling under his breath all the way, shooting reproachful glares at Rosalie's back as she traipsed -- I thought a little too joyously -- toward her Z4. I was mostly over my pent-up temper, but maybe I'd let Emmett really take a crack at me when we got to Hanover and get the aggression out of both our systems. It might do us both some good, and, I thought, spare the house the wrecking-ball that was Emmett either in a temper or too-engrossed in Rosalie, whichever outlet his aggression took this time.

Bella climbed gracefully into the passenger seat of Edward's Volvo, Edward closed her door and slid lithely into the driver's side, Carlisle held the door for Esme and then stepped into his Mercedes, and Jacob chivalrously helped Renesmee into the tiny Rabbit before clambering in himself. The engines all revved to life -- the van's chugging ominously -- and one by one the cars began to pull into the long Cullen drive and vanish behind the bends of trees and empty road. The sound of the motors lingered on the breeze as I turned to Alice, circling my arm around her tiny waist and hugging her to me.

"Are you ready, my love?" I asked, watching her as she glanced one last time over the tall white house, the immense glass windows, the wide fern-encrusted lawn, the towering spruces and sitka pines. Alice sighed loudly.

"I suppose so. We're going to like Hanover, but still..."

"There's no place like home." I finished, smiling softly.

She turned her exquisite porcelain face up to me and laughed her silver wind chime laugh. The sound caught my breath and echoed and danced on the wind.

"Exactly," she sighed.

"Well, Hanover will be home too, though--"

"Though I can't see how it could compare with Forks. Think of everything that has happened here, everything that has transpired in this tiny town, in this house," she waved her hand, like liquid alabaster in its fluid grace, at the house.

"True. But we're starting a new adventure, my love. Forks can be our past. Hanover can be our future."

Alice frowned, considering.

"Besides, new house, new school, new clothes," I reminded her, "A mere two hours from New York, a giant new closet for us _and_ the rest of the unwilling family, theater classes with envious little eighteen-year-olds..."

Alice back-handed me in the stomach, but she was grinning. She turned her petite frame to face me, wrapping her arms around my torso as she pressed her body to mine. She looked up into my face, smiling brilliantly.

"Maybe we could take a pre-vacation to New York while Esme gets everything settled in," she winked mischievously, "A few days at the Plaza, a few days on Park Avenue..."

I chuckled as I swept her up into my arms, carrying her toward the Porsche.

"I'm not sure that's worth my while," I bargained.

"I'll bet I can _make_ it worth your while," Alice tempted, and before I could respond she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my lips to hers. She kissed me teasingly at first, just hints of what might await me in New York, but soon the kiss was something else, something more pressing, more important. She left one hand on the back of my neck twisting and caressing the curls. She put the other to my cheek, stroking her fingers along my jaw tenderly. I had no free hands, holding her as I was, so I found my way to the Porsche and set her down upon the hood, her legs over the driver's side. Alice pulled me between her knees, one leg on either side of my waist, as she ran her fingers through my hair and along my back. I held one hand at the small of her back, the other running softly through her jet black mane.

I wanted her to understand how much I loved her, how much she meant to me. I wanted all the happiness that flowed through me because of her to find its way into that kiss. I wanted her to know she was everything. She was my world.

"I love you, Jasper Cullen," she breathed in my ear when I pulled my lips from hers and moved them, instead, down her jaw, "More than I think you'll ever know."

"No, I know," I answered, skimming her cheek with my nose. "We're two pieces of a puzzle, I think, two halves of a whole. Sometimes I think you're more like nine-tenths and I'm the one-tenth, but still, I know neither of us is complete without the other."

She put her hand against my cheek again, but she pulled her face away, looking at me carefully.

"Are we complete?" she asked. I looked down for the briefest fraction of a second, my gaze resting on our entwined forms. What was the point in lying to her?

"As complete as we'll ever be," I confessed. It was the best I could do.

"And you're still sure it's enough?"

Part of me wanted to yell at her. Part of me wanted to shake her until the truth sank in. Part of me wanted to laugh hysterically as though it were some bad joke. Instead I took her face in both my hands, glaring intensely into her liquid golden eyes, so exquisite, so breathtaking, so damnably ridiculously determined.

"I. Love. You." I pressed my lips to hers firmly, not moving my hands from her face. I could feel her undaunted determination. "You did promise you wouldn't bring this up again," I reminded her, "but yes. You will always be more than enough. Most of our kind wander the world, alone, aimless, driven by murder. A lucky few find another to share their shallow existence with, but still, it can hardly be considered 'happiness.' I found _you_, and by some miracle you love me too. Already so much more than I could ask for. But then, we found Carlisle, Esme, Edward, Emmett, and Rosalie. We found an existence that harms no one and frees us from guilt and conscience. Against all odds we got Bella, and we, miraculously, were given Renesmee too. And, to top it all off, we had--"

Alice tried to jerk her chin away, her eyes pained. I held her tightly.

"We _had_ a child of our own. We loved her, and I think she loved us. She changed our lives and she made us better. She fulfilled our dream."

Alice shook her head, opening her mouth as if to speak.

"What else could I want?" I demanded, forcing her to meet my gaze. "What else could I possibly ask for? I have had everything, Alice, _everything!_ There is nothing else in this world that I want!"

I kissed her fiercely, holding her face until I could be sure she wasn't going to argue with me. She held onto her determination for a long while -- she could be so damned stubborn! I kissed her harder, as though I could convince her with a physical demonstration of my powerful emotions. It seemed to work, though. Finally I could feel her body begin to relax, could feel the resignation within her. But there was also a slight guilt, as though she felt she weren't doing her duty by me, as though she felt she hadn't tried hard enough. I tried not to chuckle with relief and amusement.

"Please believe me," I whispered in her ear, running my hand up and down her back, "I could never leave you. I would never want to. I am certainly getting the better deal out of this bargain."

She chuckled reluctantly.

"Yes, I believe you are." Then she sighed and kissed the tip of my nose. "I do believe you. I just want to be sure. I know how much ... how much it hurts me. And I know you blame yourself. I just want you to be happy, Jazz. Whatever that takes, I want you to be happy."

I swallowed once involuntarily before forcing a grin.

"_Whatever_ it takes to make me happy?"

Alice raised her eyebrow, the edge of her lip turning up in a smirk. I knew what she was expecting. In a flash, though, I grabbed the car keys from her pocket and threw her over my shoulder instead.

"There might be some limits," she objected. I patted the back of her thigh as I opened the passenger door.

"No, no, my mental health is at stake here. You wouldn't want me breaking any more of Paul's ribs, would you?"

"Ha!" Alice snorted. Grinning broadly I set her down and she slid gracefully into the leather seat, her arms folded across her chest in a melodramatic pout. I shut the door behind her and walked over to the driver's side.

"Mmm, listen to that purr," I approved innocently. I put the car into drive. "Drives like a dream, too."

"What about what makes me happy?" Alice chirped as I accelerated slowly down the long drive.

"What makes you happy, my love? I already agreed to go to New York -- that's quite a concession."

Alice rolled her eyes. She knew as well as I did that although I had no real interest in shopping, watching Alice's face light up at each new shop window, feeling the pure joy and excitement she felt when she discovered a truly unique or fashionable item, was well worth the boredom and money. I'd follow her anywhere -- and that included Park Avenue.

"Right now," she replied, sliding her hand over mine as it rested on the gear shift. I eyed her suspiciously, "This is what makes me happy."

She pushed the gear into park and climbed over the console, positioning herself strategically on my lap. It would probably be uncomfortable if she weren't so small, the steering wheel pressing into her back, the gear shift into her left calf. She wrapped her arms around my neck again and kissed me rather enthusiastically. The last remnants of my suspicion were lost in the Eden of Alice's arms and lips and skin and breath and scent. In fact, I was fully engrossed in the kiss when I felt her left hand reach behind her and jerk back with the jingling of metal on metal.

"My turn!" she kissed my bottom lip in triumph.

I leaned back against the chair a little breathless. "Succubus," I muttered as Alice helpfully opened the door for me and pulled herself up enough to courteously allow me to exit. I was around the car to the passenger's side in a second and I sighed loudly as I plopped down into the seat. It only took one quick look at Alice's cheerful form and the hot branding memory of her kiss to decide me, though.

"Totally worth it," I grinned as Alice smiled radiantly and revved the engine, setting the car back into drive. I turned in my seat to catch the last glimpse of the big white Forks house before it was lost around a bend in the road.

"Well," Alice sighed, "we're on our way now."

I smiled to myself as I put my hand upon hers in the darkening twilight. The moon, ghostly pale in the deepening shades of the heavens, shone in and out of the arcing trees, like a spirited child playing hide-and-seek. I brushed my fingertips along Alice's jaw, perfectly content in this moment.

"Yes," I agreed, "we're on our way home."


	22. ExpanationsIdeas  Afterthoughts :

So, I'm not going to write a whole other book (though the idea of following everyone to Dartmouth and Renesmee's first frat party and a big crazy fight with the Volturi is extremely tempting), but I thought I would explain a few things that I didn't really get around to in "Daylight Moon," assuming anybody's interested, that is. :) Maybe someone else can take my idea and run with it...

So for a long time I didn't really have any brilliant explanation how the Volturi knew that Renesmee and Jacob were getting married. I purposely didn't explain it because I HAD no good explanation. Later, though, I thought of a totally fun one that could open up this whole new story line, but I just don't have it in me to write a whole other unpublishable story. I had a great time writing Daylight Moon, but it took me a year and I just don't have the energy to do it again. :)

Anyhow, I was thinking that Jacob and the Quilieute wolves are not really werewolves, but shapeshifters. Their "shape" was just a matter of chance. So why couldn't there be other "shapeshifters" around the world with similar stories? I decided there would be some tribe of indigenous peoples in Africa or South America or something whose people became some other sort of animal; like a leopard or panther. South America seems better. Then the Volturi could have discovered them when they went to interrogate Joham (Nahuel's father). With their plethora of powers and persuasive ways, the Volturi convinced at least one of the shapeshifters to join them. Then they sent him/her to spy on the Cullens and kind of keep tabs on them. Just as with the Quilieute wolves, Alice wouldn't be able to see them, and maybe they'd been around longer than Jacob and crew had, so they were better at "thinking like a leopard/panther." If they were totally "animalistic" when in that form, Edward probably wouldn't notice their thoughts; they would be just like any other predatory cat. And perhaps the Cullens and Quilieutes noticed a scent that was slightly off, but it was so similar to mountain lion that they just wrote it off.

I also think it would be very interesting to explore what WOULD/COULD happen with Jacob and Renesmee as far as kids go. I would think that after she stopped aging Renesmee's body couldn't change anymore, just like vampires, and she wouldn't be able to carry a child. And I'm not sure I like the thought of Renesmee as a mother and Bella as a grandmother. Jacob as a dad and Edward as a grandfather would be hilarious though! Maybe she COULD have kids until she stopped aging, though. Like a very small window of opportunity between pre-pubescence and stone-vampireness. And maybe she'd want that...

So, anyway those are my - belated - explanations/ideas. I think it would be so fun to have the whole college experience, have everyone out in the woods at some point, and come across this giant cat. Then there'd be this whole fight and the "mystery" would unravel and maybe Jane and Alec and Dimitri would get involved and someone could put Jane in her place! :) That would be fabulous! And there could be some great scenes with Jacob trying to take care of a baby that actually ACTED like a baby- changing diapers and crying and shaking car keys... :) So, if anyone wants to use my idea for a seventh Twilight book ("Midnight Sun" being the fifth), be my guest! Just send me the link so I can read it! :)

-Kristin


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